


TARGET

by fliick



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Angst, Angst and Humor, Humor, M/M, Minor Relationships, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, all other relationships besides iwaoi are minor, characters and relationship tags will be added as we go along as to not spoil anything!, the writing gets better as it goes along i promise, this fic isn't as serious as it seems i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-07-27 22:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20053447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fliick/pseuds/fliick
Summary: Hajime is good at his job. He works efficiently and smoothly, something his co-workers agree on. For the past 3 years, Hajime has worked as an assassin. However, with this new job that he’s been given, Hajime, for the first time ever, has found himself with a bit of difficulty, strangely enough;Tooru Oikawa.or: hajime is assigned to kill oikawa but instead of doing that, he bedgrudingly falls in love





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> happy haikyuu!! day! for the occasion, here's the first chapter of my big passion project, TARGET!
> 
> i started this fic as a fun little practice AU to work on, i never actually intended for it to become this huge project that i fell in love with working on  
since i hadn't written it initially with the plan of showing it to anyone, some of the writing at the beginning was a bit choppy, so i cleaned it up a bit! hopefully it reads alright now!  
this is my first time really writing an AU like this, so i'm putting a lot of care into it; at the time of posting this, i have upwards of 70 pages written (though i need to go back and fix some formatting things and such)  
either way, if you find yourself interested in this fic, please stay tuned! i'm excited to be sharing it now!
> 
> also a big thanks to my best friend char for reading this thing as i write it, checking for errors, and helping me add formatting once i had gotten to page 60 and realized i hadn't written any in and would need it if i were to post it here  
and also just thanks for being a fan of TARGET for the past 2 months and making jokes with me ab it (she's just the best, really)
> 
> oh and just so i can say it, the runner up title for this fic was "what are you going to do, kill me?" and i was really this close to using it

Hajime is good at his job. He works efficiently and smoothly, something his co-workers agree on. He’s never had a hitch in his job in the 3 years he’s been working, and is considered one of the best employees the company has. Hajime doesn’t care too much about reputation, but he also finds it satisfying to have it. It’s better to stay on his boss’ good side, after all.  
For the past 3 years, Hajime has worked as an assassin. Growing up in a family of delinquents, Hajime fell into the business quite easily. It’s not really that he enjoys his job or anything, but he’s good at it, and it pays the bills and that’s really all reason Hajime needs to keep going.

However, with this new job that he’s been given, Hajime, for the first time ever, has found himself with a bit of difficulty, strangely enough.  
After being assigned a hit, Hajime went about it like any other job; he looks up the target and studies him, planning an opportunity to carry out his mission. Hajime spent a little over a week watching the target and memorizing his schedule.

_Tooru Oikawa._  
The same age as Hajime. He’s in college, often flitting between the buildings at a leisurely pace. Sometimes, more often than not, he’s stopped outside a building by a group of girls who fawn over him until he’s late for class. Popular. It’d be a bit of a mess if he dies, Hajime concludes. Which begs the question as to why he’s being marked, though it’s never really Hajime’s business as to why his targets are targets.

Hajime’s not a stranger to taking down people he finds attractive - it comes with the job - and he’d be stupid to deny his target’s attractiveness. But, he supposes, that’s likely part of what makes the guy popular. Nothing to worry about.

It’s a weekday night when Hajime follows the man in the direction of what he assumes is his apartment. Hajime usually keeps away from his apartment - he doesn’t know who the man lives with - so he mostly watches the guy when he’s out and about. The streets are mostly desolate, and particularly scarce near the alley that they’re coming up on.

Hajime steps out of the shadows, and he reaches out to grab the man’s jacket collar to force him into the alley, but before he can get there, the man spins around, looks him dead in the eye. It catches Hajime off guard as the man looks him over once, quirking an eyebrow.

“I knew it! You _have_ been following me, haven’t you?”  
And the voice is low, deep brown eyes gazing into Hajime’s green with a look that Hajime can’t read. All Hajime can think is _Dangerous_. The question sets in Hajime’s mind and his stomach drops, throat closing up as he realizes, _I’ve been caught._

Hajime’s reaching for the knife tucked away in his jacket when the man suddenly chuckles and gives him the goofiest grin he’s ever seen.

“You’re a fan of mine, aren’t you?”

* * *

Dumbstruck, Hajime lets go of the knife he’s go gripped under his jacket as the man in front of him laughs.  
“Of course you are! It only makes sense that even guys fall for my charms! Are you embarrassed, is that why you’re following me around in the dark? There’s nothing to worry about! I’ll accept your support! But!” he waggles a finger, his eyes seem to be scanning Hajime despite his demeanor, “It’s not very nice to go around following people home. It’s sorta creepy, and I could have gotten the wrong idea.”

Hajime scowls, unsure what to do. He’s not trained for a situation like this, and he’s torn between rolling with the punches and just killing the guy right now. But the man in front of him, for all his stupid smiles and bubbly attitude, still seems dangerous, like he’s sizing up Hajime while he puts on a play.

“Hm? Are you upset? How about I give you my autograph, that’ll make you happy! Hmm, let’s see,” the man mumbles, digging into his backpack.  
Hajime briefly wonders if he should pull out the knife anyway. He can’t tell if this guy’s winging it, is actually planning something, or is just plain stupid. But if Hajime tries to kill him now, he’s not sure if the guy will fight back, so he takes initiative to try to go with the flow.

“Who should I make it out to?” the man asks as he pulls a large notebook that Hajime’s pretty sure is supposed to be used for sketching art out of his duffle bag. He’s already digging a sharpie out of his bag without waiting for an answer.  
“I’m-” Hajime begins, trying to redirect the situation, but the man glances up at him over the notebook and the words die in his throat. Those eyes _are_ dangerous, Hajime notes.

“What’s your name?” the man asks with a polite smile.  
Hajime acts on instinct, too frozen from the guy’s dark eyes to really think properly.  
“Hajime… Iwaizumi,” Hajime says slowly, a little softly. He blinks, then realizes he just gave out his real name and mentally kicks himself. _This is bad, this is bad,_ Hajime thinks to himself frantically. He’s never let his real name slip like that, and he’s getting frustrated now, baffled how this one man has screwed him up so much.

“There!” the man exclaims, carefully tearing out the page and hanging it to Hajime.  
Hajime cautiously takes it and looks down at the paper as the man caps his pen.  
It reads: “_To my biggest fan, Iwa-chan! Thank you for your support!! -Oikawa-san_” with a couple hearts and a small cartoon portrait of the man’s face on it.  
Hajime stares down at it, speechless. His eyes scan it again, and land on the shortened name.  
“I-Iwa-chan…?” Hajime mutters, and the name sounds so stupid, like a nickname a child would give their friend.  
“Like it? I thought I’d cheer you up by giving you a cute nickname as well!”

Hajime tries to process this situation and how to handle it. He’s working on calming himself down as he thinks, _This could work. If I can get close to him, eventually another opportunity will open up._  
Hajime hates acting and he’s never been good at it, but he’ll do whatever he needs to salvage this job. He forces a grin and adds a lilt to his voice, “T-Thank you, Oikawa-san!”

There’s a split second pause that Hajime almost misses, where Oikawa’s smile seems to falter slightly, though Hajime’s not sure why. But Oikawa puts his grin back on so quickly that Hajime’s almost convinced it was a trick of the street light.

“No need to thank me! Ask for an autograph anytime!” Oikawa laughs proudly. “And just call me Oikawa.” He winks, and Hajime fights to keep the grimace off his own face.  
“Sure thing, Oikawa,” Hajime says weakly.  
“Hey, you know, I’ve never seen you around before, Iwa-chan. You don’t go to my college, Seijou, do you?”  
Hajime fights back an eye roll at his new nickname and waves a hand dismissively, putting on a smile. “Oh, no. I’m 23, but I’m not in college. I work odd jobs here and there. You’re a pretty popular face, though, so I guess I became a fan. Sorry for following you,” Hajime speaks politely, and bows to top it off.

“Well, it wasn’t in any bad intention, right?” Oikawa says with a satisfied nod, but the way he says the sentence doesn’t sit right with Hajime. “I’ll forgive you.”  
“Thank you,” Hajime nods on cue. He folds up the autograph and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans. He figures he’ll toss it later, though he wonders if he could make money off it after he kills Oikawa.

“You know, Iwa-chan, if you wanted to get to know me better, I’d be happy to hang out with you. Frankly, I don’t normally give my fans this kind of premium treatment, but you’re a special one!” Oikawa hums.  
“...How so?” Hajime mumbles lowly.  
Oikawa shrugs, stretching his arms out above him, and pale skin glows in the street light.  
“Well, in any case, let’s talk more! Give me your number,” he says, whipping out his phone.  
Hajime doesn’t linger on the way Oikawa dodges his question and hesitantly takes out his own phone. He recites the number of his current one, Oikawa sends him a quick text (“_Hi, Iwa-chan!_” followed by a grinning emoji), and Hajime saves the number.

It must be upwards of Hajime’s 15th burner phone now, and he isn’t above ditching this one either should it give him any trouble, but he’s never saved phone numbers of his targets. He’s never needed to, but now that one is stored in this phone, the thought of throwing it out seems oddly discomforting. Hajime can’t imagine why, though. He wonders if he should write down Oikawa’s number too, just in case, before shaking his thoughts off, confused by his own impulse ideas.  
“I’ll be messaging you,” Oikawa says with one more wink.

* * *

When Hajime returns to his own apartment, his head feels sluggish. He tosses off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a _clunk_ from the knife. He flops down on his cheap couch, but stops when he feels something in his pocket.  
_Ugh._

Hajime digs out the folded up piece of paper and looks over the autograph again. _This is so stupid and roundabout,_ Hajime thinks bitterly before flinging the paper onto the coffee table. He finally lets his mind loose as he stares up at the ceiling, and his thoughts come crowding every corner of his mind.

_I can’t afford to be that reckless again. There was a dangerous glint in his eye. What did that mean? I’m gonna have to explain to the boss this stupid situation, shit. I’ll need more time to finish this job. He called me a special fan, what did that mean? Does he not normally treat his fans like this? I’d believe that he does, he seems like the type._

His current of thoughts are abruptly halted at a pinging sound from his phone. Reluctantly, Hajime bring it to his face and once he reads the name on his screen, he considers just ignoring it. But he sighs and opens it up.

**Oikawa**  
Iwa-chan, you dropped something!  
**Oikawa sent an image.**

Hajime opens the picture to see a small black journalist notepad he keeps with notes of his targets. He shoots up, snatching his jacket off the ground and checking the pockets. Sure enough, his notepad isn’t there.  
He never puts names in the book in case of situations exactly like this, but it has records of Oikawa’s schedule and the behavioral things he’s taken note of. Things Oikawa will bound to notice and find strange if he looks. _Fuck._

**Oikawa**  
I was on my way back from the store when I saw it where we met! Had your name on the first page. It looks important :P

**Me**  
It is. I’d like it back as soon as possible.

**Oikawa**  
It’s late!! Not safe to be walking around town anymore D:

**Oikawa**  
Meet me tomorrow at The Grind near my college! It’s a cafe! I’ll give it to you when I’m out of class in the morning

Hajime lets a groan slip out loud. This is becoming more and more annoying. It’s bordering on 10 PM now, and it takes a good while to walk back to the alley. He can’t guarantee the Oikawa won’t snoop through his notes, that he hasn’t _already_ snooped through them. Hajime’s already thinking of excuses in his head as he replies.

**Me**  
Fine. Please keep it safe.

**Oikawa**  
Will do! ;D

**Oikawa**  
Oh! I get out at 9 tomorrow btw

Hajime’s head falls back onto the arm of the couch. He’s not even sure when he had dropped the book in the first place. It had been in the pocket of his jacket, and he thinks if he probably would have noticed if it had fallen out. He vaguely remembers stumbling slightly as he was walking back, after Oikawa had left, saying something about buying groceries for a late dinner. Hajime must have still been too dazed to notice. _Or something,_ Hajime bites his lip. _When the hell did I get so clumsy, anyway?_

* * *

Hajime arrives at the cafe at 8:45 AM and takes a seat near the window so Oikawa can spot him. He orders a coffee, hoping to perk himself up after a restless night of sending emails to his boss assuring him that he just needs more time for his job, finding Oikawa’s social medias to keep track of him and to make sure he doesn’t mention Hajime’s name, and just generally trying not to think about all his blunders that dropped him in this situation to begin with.

Hajime’s boss had chewed him out, saying Hajime had been too reckless and frantic. Hajime promised his boss that he had a plan and it would just take a couple more weeks, successfully quelling him, albeit begrudgingly.

At around 9:15 AM, Oikawa walks up to the cafe, waves to Hajime in the window, and enters with a greeting to the barista behind the counter. He’s wearing a blue hoodie that says “KING” on it with a crown over the words. Hajime thinks it looks absolutely pretentious.  
He sits down in front of Hajime, plopping his duffle bag onto the table and rattling Hajime’s cup of coffee. He’s wearing glasses that Hajime has seen him wear from time to time. They frame his face well, Hajime thinks.

“Morning, Iwa-chan!” he addresses.  
Hajime hums a reply, taking a sip of his coffee and trying not to look completely exhausted.  
Oikawa opens a side pocket of his bag and pulls out Hajime’s notepad. He presents it politely with a grin.  
Hajime takes it and sets it down next to his cup. “Did you…” he begins slowly, but Oikawa beats him to it.  
“I didn’t look inside past the first page with your name on it. I know how to respect privacy, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says as he shoves his bag off the table and onto the floor next to him. It flops at his feet with a loud thud.  
Hajime breathes a sigh of relief.

“What’s it for, anyway? You said you weren’t in college, and it’s a little small for note-taking,” Oikawa says, propping his chin up with the palm of his hand.  
_Well, not for the kind of note-taking you’re thinking of_, Hajime thinks. Luckily, Hajime has always had an excuse ready, should the question ever come up.  
“It’s for observations. I like to study people - it’s just a little hobby of mine,” Hajime answers. It’s not entirely a lie.  
Oikawa smirks, raising his eyebrows. “Haha, is that what that was yesterday?” he asks with a chuckle. “That’s kinda cute.”

Hajime feels… something at that. He’s not really sure what. But he clears his throat to cover it up and forces a smile. “Pretty perceptive, huh?”  
There’s something in Oikawa’s eyes that gives Hajime the same feeling he felt yesterday when he met the guy. The feeling of _he knows something, and he’s dangerous_ and Hajime’s suddenly on edge. But Oikawa’s already returned to his regular bright grin, like he doesn’t realize he gives off an aura of unease.

“Are you nervous, Iwa-chan?”  
Hajime freezes in his chair. He searches Oikawa’s face, who’s moved his hand so that it covers his mouth, making his expression even harder to ready. His eyes are sharp, friendly, but fierce like they’re holding Hajime at gunpoint. Hajime swallows, trying to think of some kind of response.  
“You don’t have to worry, you know. I’m not such a scary person once you get to know me. _You don’t have to put on an act,"_ Oikawa says the last sentence lowly.  
Hajime frowns, narrowing his eyes at Oikawa. But Oikawa’s expression doesn’t change, eyes still bright but off. Morning sun shines through the window, casting a glow around his face, dust particles dancing around his face.

Hajime forces a chuckle, and it sounds artificial, even in his ears. “I don’t know what you mean. We only just met, so of course I’d be nervous,” he says, trying to keep his tone light.  
Oikawa watches him for a moment, eyebrows slightly quirked before he finally looks away, gazing out at the parking lot.  
“I guess not,” Oikawa says, a little quietly And just like that, he snaps back, clapping his hands together and returning to his cheerful, charismatic demeanor. “You should come to one of my games, Iwa-chan! You can cheer me on!”

Hajime recalls that Oikawa plays college volleyball, and is pretty famous around town for how good he is. He knows the basics of volleyball, just from high school PE, but he’s no expert on it or anything. Besides, more people means a higher chance of Hajime being caught. He’s not that interested in sports, anyway.

“I think I’d be more motivated if someone like you came to cheer me on,” Oikawa says, intertwining his fingers and resting his chin on them.  
Hajime leans back in his chair, regaining his heartbeat. “Someone like me?” he repeats.  
Oikawa only closes his eyes and keeps that smile. He says nothing in response.  
“I’m… busy this week with work. Maybe I can catch your next game,” Hajime says, willing his voice not to shake.

“Too bad!” Oikawa shrugs resignedly. “Well in any case,” he says as he stands, picking his duffle and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll get going now. See you later, Iwa-chan! Hope to see you again soon.”  
He waves goodbye, turns on his heels, and walks out the door quickly. From the window, Hajime thinks he catches the slightest glimpse of a frown and dark eyes behind glasses, but only for a moment. He watches Oikawa’s back as he crosses the street towards the college and disappears into a building.  
Hajime lets his shoulders untense, but his breath is still stuck in his throat. Despite being exhausted, he feels wide awake now.  
Hajime’s coffee has grown cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime elects to avoid Oikawa for a couple days, and he’s been doing a good job of it so far. Oikawa’s a heavy texter though, and often messages him about the going ons in his day and asking to hang out. Hajime does his best to brush Oikawa off by saying he’s too busy.  
It’s not a lie, either. Hajime spends a good chunk of the week making sure the boss keeps his faith that the job will get done as well as trying as inconspicuously get more information on Oikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: this chapter has some minor violence in it, heavy descriptions of strangling! it's not overly graphic and only for a couple paragraphs, but it's worth mentioning!
> 
> aaaand theres the angst  
its all up hill from here fellas

Hajime elects to avoid Oikawa for a couple days, and he’s been doing a good job of it so far. Oikawa’s a heavy texter though, and often messages him about the going ons in his day and asking to hang out. Hajime does his best to brush Oikawa off by saying he’s too busy.  
It’s not a lie, either. Hajime spends a good chunk of the week making sure the boss keeps his faith that the job will get done as well as trying as inconspicuously get more information on Oikawa.

About half a week later, Hajime’s blessed with a phone call from the man himself. It’s late, somewhere around 8 PM and Hajime’s tired and stressed. Oikawa’s not too much of a caller and usually just sticks to texting Hajime, so Hajime can assume that either: Oikawa is finally fed up with Hajime’s blatant side-stepping, Oikawa accidentally called him, or something happened and for some reason Oikawa has decided to call Hajime of all people for help.

“...Hello?” Hajime says slowly as he continues to write his email to his boss.  
“Iwa-chan, I’m so glad you picked up! This is the first time we’ve talked on the phone, yeah?”  
Hajime clears his throat, willing himself not to snap at Oikawa’s interruption.  
“I’m a bit busy today, Oikawa. I can’t talk too much,” he says, his voice as steady as he can keep it.  
There’s muffled sounds on Oikawa’s end under his voice, like music playing in the next room. There’s what Hajime assumes are people trying to sing along to it, but are more or less just shouting along. _Huh_, Hajime thinks. He hadn’t pegged Oikawa as a karaoke person, but he guesses the idea isn’t so farfetched.

“So cold, so cold! Your job must be really taxing, huh?” Oikawa says, and Hajime recalls that dangerous vibe about him.  
“Did you want something?” Hajime asks, struggling to keep his voice light and level without any bite. He probably doesn’t do a good job of that.  
“Oooh, is this how you really are?” Oikawa asks with a chuckle, but Hajime can feel the sharpness of the question.

Hajime swallows a lump in his throat. He’s about to reply with some stupid answer about how he doesn’t understand what Oikawa means, when he hears a door opening on Oikawa’s end, the music temporarily getting louder, and someone shouting, “Hey, Oikawa, you’re up next!”  
Oikawa calls, away from the receiver, “Be there in a sec!” And he’s back to that cheerful attitude.  
“Iwa-chan, do you think I’m attractive?”

Hajime pauses, mid-type to let the question sit in. Before he can ask, Oikawa jumps in to explain.  
“I was telling my teammates about you, and how enamored you were when we first met! They were convinced you just couldn’t see me well in the light, and when I told them we met the next morning, they said you were just being polite. So! Iwa-chan, prove them wrong! You think I’m handsome, don’t you?”  
Hajime only catches part of Oikawa’s rambling as he continues typing his email. He’s too tired and irritated to fully indulge Oikawa’s silly problem. He’s sure Oikawa just loves the sound of his own voice anyway.

Hajime mumbles half-heartedly, “You’re not ugly.”  
He’s not really lying; he does think Oikawa’s an attractive person, he’s thought that from the moment he saw the guy. But if he says it like that, Hajime’s sure it would only go to Oikawa’s head.  
“You _do_ think I’m handsome! I knew it! You’re gonna make me blush!”  
“That is literally not what I said.”  
Oikawa continues as he laughs, “Could you say it again? I want to record it this time!”  
“I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Oikawa yells into the receiver.  
Hajime inhales, doing his best not to sigh. “...Yes?”  
“Let’s go for drinks tomorrow! I wanna hang out again!”  
Hajime gives in. He’s too tired to really protest with this guy right now anyway.  
Oikawa speaks quickly in his excitement, “There’s a bar near that alley you stalked me to! It’s near there, it’s called The Cat’s Whiskers!”  
Hajime holds back from snapping at that first comment and instead clears his throat.  
“Alright. I’ll meet you there around 7 tomorrow, then. I’ve still got things to do.”  
“I can send you a selfie for you to admire, if you want!”  
And Hajime hangs up.

* * *

Hajime’s not really a drinker. His co-workers have dragged him to go drinking a couple times, but he rarely ever has fun. But he figures if it can give him an opportunity to get this godforsaken job done, he’s willing to do it.

He arrives at the bar before Oikawa does. It’s around 7:30 PM by now, and he’s getting impatient waiting for the guy when his phone buzzes with a new text.

**Oikawa**  
Running late, sorry! :P Just grab a spot and I’ll meet you there!!  
**Oikawa sent an image.**

The image is a selfie of Oikawa, winking at the camera and throwing a peace sign. The background seems to be the hallway of a college.  
_Fashionably late suits someone like him, I guess,_ Hajime thinks as he steps into the bar.

The bar is fairly lively, and the counter is pretty full. When Hajime approaches the bar, he spots the bartender, a man with wild unkempt black hair. He’s tall, and he has a sleazy grin that Hajime thinks completes his face. He seems like an annoying guy, Hajime thinks to himself.  
He’s speaking with someone at the end of the bar, who seems hardly engrossed in the conversation. The man the bartender is talking to is small, and Hajime wonders if he’s even old enough to be drinking.  
When Hajime gets closer to the bar, he realizes the smaller of the two only looks smaller than he actually is because he’s slouching over the counter, looking at his phone as the bartender continues to mutter to him.

“Oho, that’s a new face,” the bartender chirps when Hajime takes a seat at the bar. He mumbles one last thing to the smaller man before sliding over to Hajime with a bit of a flourish. “Can I help you?”  
“I’m just waiting for someone. I’ll just… have a beer in the meantime,” Hajime replies.  
The bartender grins and turns to pour the drink. He’s got a look on his face, like he’s laughing at everything around him.  
“I’ve never seen you in here before. You from around here?”  
Hajime shakes his head. “No, I just don’t really drink. I was invited here by a… friend,” Hajime falters a bit on the word ‘friend’. It feels strange to call _anyone_ a friend to him.  
“Hmm, well I hope to see you around more often. I’m Kuroo, by the way,” the bartender says as he slides a drink to Hajime.  
Hajime takes a small sip and silently decides he definitely still doesn’t like drinking.

“Iwa-chan!!” Oikawa calls from across the room, startling Hajime.  
As he begins making his way over, Kuroo chuckles. “That your friend?”  
Hajime gives Kuroo a tired look before turning to Oikawa and giving him a smile and a wave. Oikawa takes a seat next to him and grins.  
“I want one too, please!”  
Kuroo serves him before he saunters back to chatting with the smaller man at the end of the bar.

“Cheers, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa offers his glass tankard of beer.  
“...Cheers,” Hajime says with a nod, clunking their drinks together. He takes another timid sip and it tastes so bitter on his tongue, but he suppresses a gag wonderfully.  
Oikawa, on the other hand, gulps down his beer like a pro as Hajime watches, trying not to show signs of disgust.  
“You seemed down yesterday,” Oikawa observes, glancing at Hajime.  
Hajime shrugs, sitting his mug down. “I wasn’t trying to snap at you, I was just tired from work and all. My bad.”  
Oikawa pauses, bringing his own mug to his lips as he says softly, “Well, your real personality was more interesting, anyway.” There’s no danger or edge to the words, though. It sounds genuine, and Hajime can’t help the beat of… something, in his stomach.

Oikawa continues talking without waiting for Hajime to say anything to that. “I was late because I almost missed my deadline for an essay. I had to sprint through the halls and I just barely made it in time! The professor’s glare was scary, though,” he laughs as he finishes off his beer in just a few more gulps, not stopping for a breath. “Another!” he calls to Kuroo.

“Almost seems like you’re more busy than me,” Hajime says as he watches Oikawa start on another mug of beer. Kuroo eyes him almost amusedly before he turns to tend to a different customer.  
Oikawa exhales after downing half the mug in record time. “Well, that’s just the life of an honors student!”  
“Oh?” Hajime prods. He’s not actually all that interested. He’s already done his research on Oikawa and knows the guy gets good grades. He’s a model student, aside from how he’s chugging his beer right now of course. But Hajime doesn’t really feel like carrying the conversation, and he knows Oikawa will happily do it himself.

Oikawa drains the rest of his mug and calls for another refill. Kuroo’s starting to laugh when he slides the drink back to Oikawa, and by the time he reaches the end of the bar, he’s wheezing as the smaller man watches him, saying something like “Kuro, you’re laughing too much…”

“I’m pretty smart, you know!” Oikawa exclaims, “You might have been able to tell already, but I help a lot of underclassmen with their work. I’m a student tutor, and a lot of people tell me that I teach so well, I may as well be one of the professors!” Another swig of his beer. “When I was in high school, girls would fawn over me all the time with how smart and charming I am. Of course, now that I’m playing college volleyball, I have less time to tutor, but I’m still pretty popular! I mean I _do_ have both the brains and looks, after all.”

Oikawa’s face is reddening by now. He downs his beer with a delighted holler.  
“Um, Oikawa, maybe you should… take it easy?” Hajime suggests, trying for a smile again.  
“I am, I am!” Oikawa says, leaning back in the barstool. “You’ve hardly touched yours! Come on, lighten up a little!”  
Hajime has a bad feeling about the rest of the night.

By the time Oikawa’s chugged his tenth beer, his words are slurred together, and he’s leaning into Hajime’s space with an arm over Hajime’s shoulders. He’s prattling on about how his teammates laugh at him when he tells them how much effort he puts into his looks and hair every morning. Of course, Hajime doesn’t actually catch all of that, since Oikawa’s mostly mumbling the words over his beer.  
Kuroo’s howling with laughter, but refuses to give Oikawa an eleventh beer despite the latter’s incessant whining. Hajime decides it’s time to call it a night.

“Iwa-chaaaaan,” Oikawa drawls without any intention. It’s not to get his attention to actually talk, and Hajime knows this because this is about the fifteenth time Oikawa’s said his name and then didn’t follow up with anything when prompted.  
“I paid the bill, Oikawa. Let’s go,” Hajime says. He hopes the money he gets from finishing his job will put back the dent in his wallet from Oikawa’s ten drinks.  
Oikawa’s slumped against Hajime’s shoulder, all but nuzzling his face into Hajime’s neck.  
“Mmmm,” Oikawa hums into the crook of Hajime’s neck, and it involuntarily sends shockwaves through Hajime’s body. He’s not sure if they’re good shockwaves or not, but decides to table that thought.  
“Alright, you. Come on,” Hajime grunts as he hoists Oikawa up and allows the taller to cling to him to steady himself on his feet.  
On their way out, Hajime hears Kuroo croon after them, “Feel free to come back any time!”

They’re just down the street from the bar when realization dawns on Hajime. He really had just planned on taking Oikawa home (though he doesn’t know where Oikawa lives), but now would be a good opportunity to finish his job; Oikawa’s drunk and less likely to fight back. There’s an awkward feeling in his chest when he thinks that he’s so close to getting the job done, but Hajime can’t pin down what it is. He elects to just ignore it.

“Oikawa, where’s your apartment?” Hajime asks, but one look at Oikawa’s face and he knows it’s futile.  
Oikawa mumbles something nonsensical and definitely not anywhere near an answer to Hajime’s question. Hajime could find someone who knows Oikawa and consequentially, where Oikawa lives, but he worries if one of Oikawa’s friends sees him and Oikawa together, it might be a bit of trouble if Oikawa ends up dead the next morning. Phone call then, Hajime thinks with determination.

With one swift movement, Hajime grabs Oikawa by the waist (earning him a small gasp from the taller) and shoves him against the wall of an alley. The streets aren’t crowded, and the alley doesn’t go very far back, so no one seems to notice.  
Oikawa’s laughing, muttering something about Hajime being so forward all of a sudden.  
Hajime rolls his eyes and tries another question, “Do you have your phone on you?”  
Oikawa doesn’t answer, just blinks at Hajime. His eyes are unfocused, and Hajime’s not even sure if the guy heard him. He tries a different approach.

“Oikawa, give me your phone.”  
Oikawa’s head begins to rock to the side, as if he’s falling asleep while still standing. Hajime’s getting a bit impatient. Part of why he hates going drinking with his co-workers if having to _deal_ with them being drunk afterwards.  
Hajime steps forward, glances back out to the street to make sure no one’s really paying attention, and then slips his hands into Oikawa’s jacket pockets. After he finds nothing in them, he reaches for Oikawa’s jeans’ pockets.  
Oikawa’s squirming underneath him as he feels around, and a groan is rising in his throat, so Hajime slaps a hand over his mouth, cursing under his breath for Oikawa to _shut the fuck up._ Of course, that only makes Oikawa swoon more.

Hajime finds Oikawa’s phone in his back pocket. Feeling around Oikawa’s ass for it only made Oikawa fall into Hajime’s arms, humming into his ear. Hajime tries not to think too much about it and digs the phone out around Oikawa, looking at it over his shoulder.  
Of course, Hajime’s met with the second obstacle in this night full of really stupid obstacles: Oikawa’s passcode. He lets out a sigh, trying to keep his cool.

Unhelpful as he knows it will be, he attempts, “Oikawa, tell me your passcode.”  
Oikawa only hums indistinctly, leaning his head against Hajime’s.  
Hajime restrains the urge to just kill the guy right now. He takes a deep breath, shoves Oikawa back up against the wall (he just slides down the wall and sits on the ground as his head lolls to the side), and begins trying any group of numbers Hajime can think of.

He’s memorized plenty of numbers pertaining to Oikawa in the time he’s studied the guy. His birthday, his phone number, the sequence of volleyball numbers he’s been, and still nothing. It’s a long shot, but he tries Oikawa’s weight, height, age. None of which works, and Hajime can feel himself getting more frustrated. It’s been a long night and he’s ready to just get it over with.

“Hey, Shittykawa, tell me your passcode,” Hajime tries again, turning back to Oikawa, slumped on the ground. He figures putting on an act won’t matter after tonight anyway, so no need to keep it up for a man who’s barely conscious.

Oikawa’s still dozing on the ground against the wall, drool beginning to slide down his chin. Hajime inhales and then gives him a solid slap across the face. Oikawa jolts, still in a drunken stupor but apparently a bit more alert now.  
His words still slur together a bit as he protests hazily, “Ow! That hurt, Iwa-chan!”

“Passcode. Now,” Hajime warns, shoving Oikawa’s phone in his face.  
Oikawa wipes the drool from his chin and blinks. He reaches out and taps the number 0 four times.  
Hajime has never in his life wanted to punch someone so much. Instead, he opens up to Oikawa’s contacts, but thinks better of it, and looks through Oikawa’s pictures and notes. Partly out of curiosity, but main just in case he finds something that might throw yet another wrench in his job.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa complains, eyes half-lidded, “You shouldn’t be stooping through other people’s phones.”  
“I’m _snooping_, you drunk.”  
“That’s what I said!”

Oikawa’s notes are about what Hajime had expected. Reminders about his upcoming volleyball matches and tests, plans for the weekend, a messy shopping list. His pictures are the same, images of his team, a younger kid during volleyball practice who seems to be related to him, heavily edited selfies. Nothing all that interesting. Oh well, Hajime resigns and goes back to Oikawa’s recent contacts.  
Underneath Hajime’s name (set to ‘Iwa-chan’ because of course it is), is a list of names that Hajime’s not familiar with. Hajime can only assume that they’re his friends, especially since a good chunk of them seem to have ridiculous nicknames (Makki, Mattsun, etc).

Hajime taps on the first name on the list under his own, Kindaichi, and the phone rings twice before someone answers.  
“Oikawa-san?” a voice asks, confused. Hajime finds himself briefly awed that someone actually _does_ call him Oikawa-san. “I thought you were out drinking with a friend?” The voice sounds somewhat far away, like he picked up on speaker phone but is sitting close by the phone.

“Oh, yeah, I’m Oikawa’s friend. Oikawa is.. Very drunk,” Hajime says slowly.  
Before Kindaichi can answer, someone in the background calls, “How many beers did he drink?”  
As much as Hajime wants to snap, he feels it best to humor them if he ever wants to get Oikawa home. “Ten. He was refused an eleventh.”  
There’s laughter in the background and the same voice calls, “Haha! Told you, Matsukawa! Pay up!”  
“What? Aw, come on, Hanamaki. Everyone knows Oikawa goes all out when he drinks,” a different voice protests.  
“Doesn’t matter! Pay up!”

Kindaichi’s voice comes back, closer to the receiver, “Um, do you need one of us to come pick him up?”  
Hajime does his best to not let his insistence show through over the phone. Despite knowing he’s terrible at acting, Hajime tries to speak slow and calm, “Oh, no need to go through all the trouble, I can do it! I just need to know his address, so if you could point me in the direction?”  
Luckily, Kindaichi complies, “Sure! Here, I’ll text the address to Oikawa-san so you can get it. Be safe on your way back!”

Oikawa’s apartment is unlocked. Hajime recalls Oikawa telling him earlier about being late with his essay and wonders if that has something to do with it. _What an airhead,_ he thinks to himself.  
Hajime steps into the dark apartment, Oikawa slung over his back. Oikawa’s half asleep and snoring into Hajime’s ear.  
“Pardon the intrusion…” Hajime mumbles as he flicks on the light.

He tosses Oikawa onto the couch in the living room and then takes a moment to glance around as Oikawa snorts and rolls onto his back.  
The apartment is pretty clean, much to Hajime’s surprise. With how flight Oikawa is, Hajime expected it to be messy with clothes and papers thrown all over the place, but the only thing even remotely messy in his living room seems to be the pile of volleyball and sports magazines on the coffee table.

There’s a bookshelf in the corner of the room that catches Hajime’s eye. He glances over it, (mostly cooking books or classic literature that looks like it hasn’t been touched in ages) and finds a photograph on the shelf.  
The photo seems to be a family picture, with a young Oikawa grinning in the middle. Hajime immediately flicks his eyes away, regretting even looking. Oikawa has a family, and so did all the other people Hajime’s killed before him. Something warps in the pit of Hajime’s stomach, and he knows he needs to get this done already.

Oikawa yawns from the couch and his eyes land on Hajime. He seems to have sobered up a little from their walk and from Hajime slap earlier and is mostly just sleepy now. He blinks slowly, and opens his mouth a little like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out. He has a look in his eyes that Hajime can’t place, and already Hajime feels unsettled.

He doesn’t think - just approaches the couch quickly and quietly. Oikawa watches silently, eyes still a bit glazed over as Hajime leans over the couch and climbs up to straddle Oikawa’s body. For a brief moment, Hajime meets eyes with Oikawa’s.  
It was a mistake, because Oikawa’s face sends Hajime’s stomach reeling. He expects Oikawa to make some smarmy quip after he moved on top of him, but Oikawa face is calm, but not in a resigned way. He’s calm in a way that he knows exactly what’s happening and is just… letting it happen.

Hajime can’t tell if he’s making this face because he’s still a little drunk, or if he doesn’t completely comprehend what’s about to happen, or what. But that twisting in his stomach only worsens. So he takes a deep breath, and, against his better judgement, murmurs a quiet, “Sorry,” before shakily gripping his hands around Oikawa’s neck.

Everything happens so quickly.  
Hajime only hesitates for a moment before he starts wringing. Oikawa grunts underneath him, finally finding his voice and squeezing it out weakly through Hajime’s grasp, “Iwa-chan.”  
And Hajime’s heart is pounding against his chest, and his eyes are starting to sting but he doesn’t understand why. He can’t comprehend why in the world _he’s_ the one getting upset.

Oikawa coughs, muscles struggling against Hajime’s fingers. Hajime risks another glance at Oikawa’s face. His eyes are closed, there are tears spilling over his cheeks, and his throat fights as he’s crushed. Hajime realizes that _he’s not fighting back_ and something snaps in his head. It doesn’t feel the same as the other people he’s killed, it doesn’t feel like Oikawa’s just another target. That photo flashes in Hajime’s mind and he swallows.

There’s bile rising in the back of Hajime’s throat, and his entire body is trembling. He feels like he might throw up if he keeps going, and Oikawa’s eyes are closing again, he’s losing consciousness. His mouth hangs open as if he wants to talk, but under Hajime’s grip, nothing comes out. Hajime’s own throat is on fire, and he doesn’t think he can hold his own bile down.

Hajime loosens his grip slowly, then completely lets go.

* * *

The whole apartment is quiet. He’s sitting up on the couch still, eyes red and unfocused. He hadn’t said a thing when Hajime had let go, rushed into his bathroom and began heaving. And he didn’t look when Hajime returned and sat on the floor, avoiding his eyes.

Hajime’s mind is fractured, his breath ragged and his throat still burning. He endures that sinking feeling as if he were looking over the ledge of a cliff, or as if he were sitting on the edge of a thousand feet high building. He feels as if he could fall through the floor - he feels as if he _is_ falling.

Oikawa’s the one who breaks the silence.  
“It’s okay.”  
Hajime freezes in place. His eyes trail up to look at Oikawa, but when he spots the red handprints around Oikawa’s neck, he flicks his eyes away quickly.  
“You… you said sorry, right before,” Oikawa’s voice is strained and weak.  
And Hajime only feels anger bubbling up in his chest at those words, but he’s already used all his energy up. He wants to shred his own voice apart, scream at Oikawa, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and punch him square in the face.

But his eyes are stinging, his hands feel numb, and he bites his lip. He’s just tired now, he just wants to sleep and forget about Oikawa, his job, everything.  
He stands up unsteadily, using the couch as leverage, careful not to put his hand anywhere near Oikawa. He feels eyes on him as he stumbles towards the door. His hand is on the doorknob when he hears Oikawa speak, hardly audible.  
“It’s okay, Iwaizumi.”  
And it feels like he’s been slapped across the face with a belt. It feels like ten punches to his throat, like his own throat has been mangled. It _hurts._  
Hajime leaves without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> typos may or may not exist lol  
thank u to char once again for being the biggest fan (aside from me) for this fic ur great ily


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks pass, and Hajime isn’t sure what to tell his boss anymore. So instead, he avoids him; he closes his laptop, turns off his phone. He only goes out to buy groceries and even then, he keeps a low profile. He’s never avoided work like this, and it only makes him feel worse.  
He does his best to keep is thoughts away from Oikawa, too. He shoves his notepad under his couch cushions, pretends it’s fallen between them and he’s lost it. He had previously thought about just burning the thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi happy sunday  
i think soon, we'll be gettin into the real meat of this fic, so stay tuned! (":  
and as always shout out to my best friend for caring so much about this silly fic and reading each new chapter i put out even though she's read all 80+ pages of this thing already, ur the mvp char

Two weeks pass, and Hajime isn’t sure what to tell his boss anymore. So instead, he avoids him; he closes his laptop, turns off his phone. He only goes out to buy groceries and even then, he keeps a low profile. He’s never avoided work like this, and it only makes him feel worse.  
He does his best to keep is thoughts away from Oikawa, too. He shoves his notepad under his couch cushions, pretends it’s fallen between them and he’s lost it. He had previously thought about just burning the thing.

Hajime… feels awful about it, actually. And it’s strange that out of all his jobs, _this_ is the one giving him guilt. The only other job he’s ever really felt guilty about was his very first job, before he was used to it.  
He had only known Oikawa for a short amount of time, but even if he had been thinking about his job in the time he hung out with the guy, he still feels that they were friends of some sort.  
Which is strange, because Hajime hasn’t made an attempt to befriend… _anyone,_ really. Not co-workers, not people he had gone to school with, not his family. Despite only knowing Oikawa for a short time, he still feels like he’s just lost his best friend. And that churns in his stomach.  
Somewhere deep down, he knows he’s afraid to face Oikawa again. It’s easy to just say words without meaning, after all.  
_So much for not thinking about him,_ Hajime thinks bitterly.

There’s a knock on his door. He’s not particularly in the mood to answer it. He’s sitting on his couch, watching some sitcom that he actually doesn’t care that much about.  
The knocking continues and it’s irritating, so Hajime breathes a deep sigh and goes to open it.  
He finds a familiar face in the doorway and sighs again, this time more annoyed.  
“Iwaizumi,” the man greets politely.  
Wakatoshi Ushijima, one of Hajime’s co-workers, stands in the doorway, face stoic as ever.

Ushijima is considered the best assassin at the company right now, with Hajime being the second-best. Apparently, Ushijima just has a knack for killing, though Hajime doesn’t know all that much about the guy or how he got involved with the company. And frankly, he doesn’t really care to know.

Hajime doesn’t _hate_ Ushijima. He’s known Ushijima for a number of years when they both joined the company as assassins, were trained together, and he’s never had any real conflict with the guy. But for some reason, he tends to rub Hajime the wrong way, and Hajime can’t put his finger on why.  
Ushijima tends to outwardly look pretty emotionless, and his movements are a little awkward and mechanical. He’s polite, but Hajime’s always thought it was all just an act. The guy’s never broken it though, if it is one. Really, Hajime’s sure Ushijima’s probably just socially awkward but that doesn’t change how much Hajime doesn’t like interacting with him. Maybe he’s jealous of Ushijima’s height too, but that’s besides the point.

“They didn’t have to send someone to tell me to do my job,” Hajime hisses, crossing his arms. He’s not that pissed, but anything work-related seems to be irritating to him lately.  
Ushijima answers calmly, “I’m not. I was simply sent to make sure nothing has happened.”  
Hajime rolls his eyes, but steps aside to let the man in. Ushijima glances at him, as if to double-check, and then ducks inside quietly when Hajime rolls his eyes again.

“Well, as you can see, nothing’s happened,” Hajime says curtly as he follows Ushijima into the living room.  
He watches as Ushijima sits on the couch stiffly, hands on his knees. It’s almost painful, really. Hajime stands in front of the couch, not wanting to sit next to the man.  
“I was told that you haven’t sent in a report in a while, and the boss can’t seem to reach you,” Ushijima points out.  
Hajime thinks back to his phone, sitting in his nightstand drawer, turned off. He elects to change the subject.

“What about you? Don’t you have a job to do too?” Hajime asks, raising an eyebrow.  
“I’ve… hit a snag in my job,” Ushijima admits, averting his eyes.  
“That so,” Hajime says flatly.

Ushijima blinks, eyeing up Hajime. Hajime waves a hand to signal him to continue.  
“He’s - my target, I mean - he’s very strange. Er, no… fascinating, I suppose,” Ushijima speaks a little quieter, “...or something. I’m afraid I don’t have proper words to describe it. But I’ve found it hard to find a chance to finish my job around him.”  
Hajime grunts, shifting his weight. “Sounds like I’m not the only one the higher-ups should be getting on to.”

“No, they have. But then I was asked to check in with you, since I’m nearby, so my job was disrupted. I think it’d be helpful for both of us if you contacted the boss.”  
Despite the way he worded it, there’s no bite to the complaint. But he’s somehow turned the conversation back.

So Hajime forcefully spins it around again. “So this guy of yours,” Hajime says, gesturing with his hands, “What’s got someone like you so interested in him?”  
Ushijima pauses, like he’s not sure himself. “He’s got a… different personality, I guess. He’s loud, but not in a bad way. I normally prefer quietness, but…” he trails off, pulling his gaze down to his lap.  
Hajime scoffs, “So even someone at the top of the food chain can get hung up.”  
“I suppose you could say he’s caught my eye,” Ushijima says, looking up to match Hajime’s eyes.

“The great Ushijima, falling in love? Imagine that,” Hajime says sarcastically.  
“Huh. Maybe it is love,” Ushijima muses, not an ounce of shame on his face, like Hajime would have hoped upon saying something so cheesy. The fact he’s genuine irks Hajime more.  
“You _can’t_ care about your target, genius,” Hajime bites and he thinks maybe he says it for himself to hear, too.  
Ushijima nods slowly, thoughtfully. “Of course I understand that, but… well, it’s difficult,” and Hajime knows, he _knows._

Hajime stops pressing him; he really doesn’t want to hear about his co-worker’s dumb crush on his target.  
“In any case, Iwaizumi,” Ushijima says with a short clear of his throat, “I was told to encourage you to reply back to the boss.”  
“‘Encourage’, my ass,” Hajime huffs, stepping away from the couch. “They’re just telling me to get off my ass and kill the guy already, that’s all. No need to make it sound friendly.”  
“Well, if that’s how you want to interpret it, yes,” Ushijima says slowly.

“Fine, whatever. Message loud and clear,” Hajime hisses, gesturing towards the door.  
Ushijima stands obediently, but tries again, “Iwaizumi, I feel that you may not be taking the request seriously, so let me reiterate-”  
Hajime begins pushing the man out. “No, no, no. I get it, I don’t wanna hear it anymore. Bye.”  
Ushijima’s eyebrows are furrowed in what Hajime imagines is probably the closest thing to frustration he’s ever seen on the guy.

“Iwaizumi, I’d like to just-”  
“Look man, I got it. You said your message, you did your little check up, you can leave now,” Hajime says, grunting as Ushijima resists a little against Hajime’s shoving.  
“I’m not talking about the message anymore. I thought I’d tell you-”  
By now, Hajime’s successfully pushed Ushijima outside. For as big and burly as the guy is, he gave up resisting pretty quickly.  
“I don’t think someone who can’t do their own job should be lecturing anyone about theirs,” Hajime grumbles.  
That seems to get Ushijima to clam up as he stands stock still in front of the doorway. Hajime’s ready to close the door when he speaks up one more time.

“Lately, I’ve thought… I’ve reconsidered my job.”  
And Ushijima says it quieter than his already soft voice. It catches Hajime off guard as he lets the sentence sink in. Once it does, Hajime feels his stomach drop.  
“Wait, what?”  
Ushijima keeps a steady, strong gaze when he replies, “Is that inappropriate of me? But still, it’s the truth. I’ve never had an issue with my job before, but watching him…”  
There’s a lump in Hajime’s throat, making it hard to swallow. His hands feel numb.  
“It’s… difficult,” Hajime repeats, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it toward Ushihima or if he’s saying it reassure, or rather justify himself. But somehow, saying it out loud grounds himself.  
“It is,” Ushijima replies quietly with a small nod.

After his talk with Ushijima, Hajime’s apartment feels suffocating to sit in. The discussion leaves him feeling uneasy, and he can’t stand the stuffy feeling of his apartment anymore. Despite practically shoving Ushihima out of his apartment about twenty minutes ago, Hajime finds himself leaving too. Working on autopilot while he clears his mind, he walks mindlessly near the street he had called Oikawa’s friends that night.

“Yo!” a deep voice calls to him.  
Hajime looks up to see messy black hair and sharp hazel eyes. He’s not really in the mood to socialize, but he’s even more not in the mood to go back to his apartment. But Hajime’s having a bit of trouble placing the man in front of him; he knows he’s seen the guy’s face before but…  
“Tetsurou Kuroo,” the man answers for him. “I work at The Cat’s Whiskers.”  
“Ah. I didn’t think you’d remember me,” Hajime replies, looking over the man.

He’s still wearing his bartender uniform, so Hajime assumes he’s just gotten off work. He’s got one hand clinging gently to the jacket of a smaller man behind him. Blonde hair, black roots. Hajime vaguely remembers him too. His eyes are down on a small gaming console, and he lightly bumps into Kuroo when the latter stops. His eyes flick up to Kuroo’s face, then follows his gaze to Hajime and nods his head politely before returning to his game.

“Well, your friend was pretty impressive that night,” Kuroo says, flashing his teeth as he smirks, “I like to remember fun customers.”  
“He’s not my friend,” Hajime says, maybe a little too quickly.  
Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “No? He came in last week, asking if I’d seen you,” he says, placing his other hand on his hip. “He actually came in the other day, too. He said to pass along a message if we see you. I thought we wouldn’t, since you don’t seem like the type to come to bars by yourself.” He chuckles airily.

“Actually, it was kinda weird. Hmmm, Kenma?” Kuroo asks, tugging softly on the smaller man’s jacket.  
Kenma presses what Hajime assumes is a pause button before his eyes meet Hajime’s and answers, “‘I’ve got another autograph for you, should you want it. I’d really like to give it to you in person.’” He pauses. “...Or so he says,” he mumbles, eyes trailing back down to his console.

Hajime scowls, thinking sourly, _What an idiot bastard._ Kuroo seems to notice his grimace and shrugs, grinning.  
“Well, I hope you two make up. The guy’s been like a lost puppy, hanging around the bar and sulking. It’s not funny at all,” Kuroo sighs dramatically, gliding past Hajime, pulling Kenma along closely.  
“It wasn’t funny in the first place,” Kenma mutters.  
“It was.”  
“No, it wasn’t.”

“...It was.”  
“It was _not_.”  
Their meaningless banter fades as they walk away, but Hajime’s frowning to himself. _There’s no ‘making up’ after that. At least, there shouldn’t be,_ Hajime thinks.

* * *

Despite being determined, Hajime still finds himself at the gates of Oikawa’s college. He had only been taking a stress-jog, but somehow his subconscious drags him here. He knows he’ll eventually have to face Oikawa, but once he lets himself put it off once, it becomes so easy to.  
He’s turning to leave when he catches a small group on the side of the main building out of the corner of his eye.

“Haha, I’m pretty busy these days, but I can definitely see if I have time in my schedule to tutor you!” an airy voice is saying, and Hajime knows it instantly. Against his better judgement, Hajime risks a glance.  
The guy’s surrounded by a small group of girls, happily smiling and laughing with him. Something in Hajime’s stomach turns, and he whips around so quickly he almost stumbles.

Hajime’s ready to make a sprint for it but every bone in his body freezes when he hears, “Iwa-chan!!”  
Hajime’s frozen long enough to hear him say something along the lines of, “Sorry, can we catch up later? I have to go do something really important.”  
Hajime’s mind finally catches up to his body, and he’s running in the opposite direction without really knowing where he’s planning on going. Literally anywhere but here seems like a good idea, he thinks.

Hajime only briefly hears the footsteps behind him, but doesn’t register them properly until he’s knocked off his feet and is spiraling towards the sidewalk.  
He lands on his stomach with a grunt, and he can already feel a bruise forming on his knee.

“Ouch…” Oikawa groans as he rolls over from where he collided with Hajime from behind. Hajime notices his elbow bleeding, but Oikawa doesn’t seem to mind it, or doesn’t notice it.  
Hajime sits up, rubbing his knee. “That was dangerous, stupid! We’re right next to the road!” he snaps as he watches Oikawa lift himself off the pavement.

Oikawa sits cross legged on the street, a little too close for Hajime’s comfort. He jabs a finger into Hajime’s chest as he protests, “You’ve been avoiding me! How else could I have gotten your attention?!”  
“Take a hint, dumbass! I was avoiding you for a reason!”  
“What reason?!”  
“None of your damn business!”  
“It has to do with me, so yeah, it is my business!”  
They’re sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, shouting at each other. Hajime’s aware of how ridiculous they might look to someone passing by, but he’s too frustrated to really care.

“You were supposed to be fine with me cutting you off, idiot!” Hajime yells, raising his voice to an uncomfortable level, even as he’s doing it.  
Oikawa’s making an angry face, and Hajime thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen such a look on the guy’s face. It throws him off, only a little.  
Oikawa shouts right back, “How was I supposed to be fine with it?! We were friends! You can’t just do that and then run off without a word!”

Hajime can feel the corners of his eyes stinging. The last thing he wants to do is cry in front of Oikawa.  
So, he takes his counter volume up another level so that he’s practically screaming, “We weren’t _friends_, you naive moron! I never had any intention of being your friend, can’t you see that?! God, you don’t understand anything! You’re so-” but the words get caught in Hajime’s throat, and he bites his lip in a weak attempt to keep all his emotions in tact.  
In the back of his mind, Hajime wonders if there are people watching this go down. They’re still on campus, after all.

Oikawa’s quiet for a bit, then the anger visibly sizzles out of him and melts into something calmer, softer. He says it hesitantly, almost like he’s whispering a secret, “I already knew.”

All of the fight leaves Hajime at once, and he feels like he might collapse. His body goes numb, and he feels like he’s looking at himself from a third person perspective. It feels surreal, sitting on the sidewalk in broad daylight, birds chirping and a dog barking in the distance.  
Oikawa begins to stand, only stumbling a bit in pain from the fall, then offers a hand to Hajime. “Let’s talk somewhere else. C’mon, Iwa-chan.”

When they make it to the park, the sun is dipping below the treeline, casting an orange glow in the sky. The park is mostly empty, save for a handful of teenagers loitering around.  
Oikawa hadn’t said anything as they walked to the park together, and Hajime’s a bit grateful for that. He can’t really think of anything he wants to say right now, anyway.

Oikawa sits forward on a swing set that’s entirely too small for them. Hajime takes a seat on the one next to it, facing backwards. The sway quietly for a bit until the teens finally leave the park and the sky turns a deep blue as the last bit of sunlight drops below the trees.  
Oikawa’s staring up at the sky as stars begin to peek out, and Hajime stares down at his shoes, dug into the dirt.

Talking seems pointless now, Hajime thinks. What could even be said? The fact of the matter is that Oikawa considered Hajime a friend, and Hajime had done something to explicitly hurt him. There’s not two ways about that, and Hajime thinks it’s stupid to try to redeem himself from that.

“You know, when I first noticed you following me around, I _was_ a little spooked,” Oikawa suddenly says, breaking the silence. He rocks in his swing seat, the whole set creaking under the weight of the two of them.

Hajime doesn’t reply, he thinks his voice might break if he does. So Oikawa goes on.  
“When you came to approach me, I kind of panicked a bit. I thought you were gonna mug me right then and there, on the streets. And when you saw that I noticed you, I saw your face and you spoke.”

“...And?” Hajime tries his voice out. It sounds small and quiet in his own ears. He chances a glance at Oikawa and finds him staring up at the stars.  
“And I thought to myself, in a condescending voice, ‘This guy won’t kill me’,” Oikawa says with a grin.

In one swift movement, Hajime stands from his tiny swing and kicks Oikawa’s back. It’s not enough to really cause damage, but Oikawa still yelps. He watches as Hajime walks around to the other side of his swing and sits down so that they face the same direction. As he does, the swing set moans with strain again. Hajime briefly wonders if they’d take the whole set down.

Oikawa rubs his backside as he continues, “That hurt, Iwa-chan!” He sways a bit in his seat as he goes on, “After I started talking to you, I thought you were quite a nice person, especially for someone who was clearly trying to hurt me.”

Hajime decides to ignore the word “clearly”, and rolls his eyes. “What you’re telling me is that you’re incredibly naive. Like, stupidly naive.”  
Oikawa kicks at the ground gently to push his swing back a bit. The set hisses in protest. “What I’m telling you is that when I said it didn’t seem like you had bad intentions, I meant it. That was some act you put up. But it was all for me,” he says dramatically with a smile.

“I put up that act because I thought it was my only choice of salvaging my job,” Hajime says flatly, “It wasn’t to impress you or whatever you’re thinking.”  
“Well, in any case, I realized you weren’t a bad person.”  
“Um,” Hajime says pointedly because of course he’s a bad person, he just strangled the guy a couple weeks ago.  
“You’re ruining this for me, Iwa-chan.”

“Well, I had a bad gut feeling that night, when we went drinking. I mean, part of me was probably hopeful I was wrong and you wouldn’t do anything. I thought it was kind of funny you dropped your act so quickly when you were rushing to get me home, but when I saw the look in your eyes when I was laying on the couch, I realized you really were going to try,” Oikawa speaks softly.

Hajime shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the sides of the swing chafing his hips.  
Oikawa continues, “You know, the day after we met, when I gave you that notebook back, I left feeling kind of unsettled. You had this look in your eyes. But I got kind of hurt when you started avoiding me,” Oikawa says the last part a bit dramatically, leaning back in his swing and using the chains to anchor himself so he doesn’t fall completely out.

Hajime scoffs quietly. “For all your vague threats and glints in your eye, you didn’t do anything when it came down to it,” he spits bitterly. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to not think about it too much.  
Oikawa pulls himself up to sit properly. He chuckles, “When you put your hands on my neck, I panicked a bit, but I think I might have been too drunk to really think to do anything. But the look on your face said your heart wasn’t in killing me, so I held onto that and hoped for the best. It did kind of hurt, though.”  
Oikawa runs a hand over his neck, and Hajime winces, remembering the marks he had glimpsed as he left that night.

Oikawa catches it and waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s no big deal, though! It faded after a day, anyway. I just wore a scarf to class the next day. Anyway, I never actually thought you’d kill me, even when you tried.”  
Hajime huffs, “That’s less of a compliment than you think.”

Oikawa stands from his swing, and moves so he stands directly in front of Hajime.  
He speaks softly, “The point is, I meant what I said before. It’s okay, I don’t blame you.”  
Hajime sits still. His thighs are starting to cramp in the small seat, but he doesn’t dare move.  
“Why not?” and he says it with more of a bite than he really means.

“Hmm, I wonder,” Oikawa says innocently, feigning confusion as he tilts his head back like he’s thinking.  
“I’m being serious here,” Hajime chides, frowning.  
Oikawa shrugs playfully. “Maybe you’re just too dense, Iwa-chan,” he says, flashing a grin.  
Hajime kicks at Oikawa’s shins. Oikawa dances around his kicks, almost tripping as he steps back from the swing set.

“Your elbow’s a mess,” Hajime points out as he stands and rubs his sore hips.  
Oikawa pulls his arm up to peer at his elbow, like he hadn’t noticed. It’s not dripping with blood or anything, but the skin is broken and scarred and there’s light smears of blood around it.  
“Oh,” Oikawa says absently. He steps forward toward Hajime. Confused, Hajime doesn’t react when Oikawa grabs the chest of Hajime’s shirt and wipes his elbow with it.  
As soon as Hajime realizes what he’s doing, he stomps on Oikawa’s foot, earning him a pathetic wail.

“Don’t wipe your nasty blood on me!”  
“I didn’t have anything else to wipe it on! Be a gentleman, Iwa-chan!”  
“Use your own shirt, Shittykawa!”  
“Is that your idea of a nickname?! Mine is so loving, why is yours so mean?!”  
“Shitty Oikawa!”  
“Even meaner!”  
Oikawa’s laughing though, keeling over and holding his stomach. Hajime thinks briefly that the sound is kind of nice, but still feels like they’ve left things unresolved, what with Oikawa dodging his question earlier.

But for now, Hajime feels like they can resume being friends, without Hajime’s act, without the stress of being caught or getting his job done. He’s not even sure when he had accepted the idea that he even _wanted_ Oikawa as a friend. He’s never tried to be friends with _anyone_, so it comes as a shock, even to himself. And Hajime’s fully aware that he definitely can’t just continue his job like this, either. Something about that night shattered something in him, and despite being a reliable assassin for the past three years, Hajime decides to shelf his job for a while.

They’re walking together to the alley they met at, about to part ways to go home when Oikawa whips around suddenly.  
“Oh, right! I have something for you, Iwa-chan! Open your hand.”  
Hajime raises an eyebrow, but holds out his palm anyway. Oikawa drops a neatly folded up piece of paper in it. Hajime stares at it for a moment before he goes to unfold it, but is stopped by Oikawa.

“Don’t look at it now! Open it when you get home,” Oikawa says quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.  
He wears an expression that Hajime thinks he’s never seen on Oikawa. He’s avoiding eye contact, smiling weakly, and his face looks a little pink, though Hajime can’t quite tell in the dark. Maybe he’s just imagining it, he thinks. Hajime can’t quite place the expression, but it’s on the tip of his tongue.

He’s about to ask Oikawa what the paper is when Oikawa spins on his heels.  
“It’s late, and I have class tomorrow, so I’m going on ahead! Goodnight, Iwa-chan!” he calls as he shuffles off quickly.  
Hajime can’t think of a proper response in time, (or Oikawa doesn’t let him give a proper response) and he just watches Oikawa sprint off.

When Hajime returns home, he flops down on his couch and studies the folded paper. He hesitates, only for a moment, before unfolding it and reading the contents.  
It reads: “_To my biggest fan, Iwa-chan! I want to get to know you better and become closer friends! So please take care of me from now on!! From your biggest fan, Oikawa-san_”  
There’s stars drawn around their names, and another cartoon portrait of Oikawa’s face in the corner, winking.

The autograph is ridiculous, and the line about Hajime taking care of him has him snorting to himself. But as he reads it over again, his chest tightens slightly. Alone in his apartment, Hajime lets a small smile slip onto his face.  
_He was embarrassed_, Hajime realizes with amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter felt a bit short and uneventful but like i said, we're still workin on getting into the good parts of this fic  
i have to bar myself from putting too much into a chapter lol, i wanted to put the next like 10 pages into this chapter :"D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s only a couple days later when Hajime wakes to his phone buzzing. He hazily remembers turning the thing back on a couple days ago, the night he and Oikawa had their talk at the park. He had seen the 16 texts and 5 missed calls from Oikawa from the week prior, as well as a barrage of emails from the boss. He had promptly ignored them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im bothered that this is a shorter chapter than the others, but there wasn't a good stopping point for how much i wanted to put into this chapter, apologies ;;

It’s only a couple days later when Hajime wakes to his phone buzzing. He hazily remembers turning the thing back on a couple days ago, the night he and Oikawa had their talk at the park. He had seen the 16 texts and 5 missed calls from Oikawa from the week prior, as well as a barrage of emails from the boss. He had promptly ignored them all.

Groggily, Hajime reaches over to check his phone from where it sits on the bedside table. It’s 7:15 AM. Under normal circumstances, Hajime would be wide awake at this time, but he finds himself sleeping in more and more lately. He thinks he’s a bit justified with the week he’s had, though.  
He unlocks his phone to see Oikawa’s name.

**Oikawa**  
Morning, Iwa-chan!! It’s a little chilly this morning! ;P  
**Oikawa sent an image.**

The image is an Oikawa selfie, unsurprisingly. He stands in his bathroom, camera pointed at his reflection in the mirror. He’s shirtless, one hand holding the phone and one hand on his hip, uncombed hair sticking out wildly. He’s winking at the camera, sticking out his tongue cheekily.  
While the photo is framed to show off Oikawa’s bare chest, Hajime catches a peek at Oikawa’s boxers; light blue, with tiny crowns on them. It matches his stupid hoodie that Hajime thinks looks pretentious. Hajime snorts at the picture.

Aside from feeling a bit relieved that he no longer has to keep up an act around Oikawa, Hajime has began to notice how often Oikawa flirts. He doesn’t really know when it began, but he doesn’t really say anything about it. Oikawa kind of seems like the kind of guy who would flirt with everyone, Hajime thinks.

**Me**  
A bathroom selfie, this early in the morning? Seems you’re feeling generous today.

**Oikawa**  
I’m always a generous person~

**Oikawa**  
I’ll be out of my classes by 4 this afternoon!

**Oikawa**  
In case you’re feeling generous today as well and want to come meet me ;D

**Me**  
Busy. Not feeling generous.

**Oikawa**  
Ah, the feeling of rejection…!

**Oikawa**  
You’re busy? I hope you’re not still planning on killing me~

**Me**  
We’ll see.

**Oikawa**  
How scary, Iwa-chan~ ;P

Hajime leaves the conversation there and pulls himself out of bed. It’s the third day Hajime pretends he doesn’t see all the emails his boss is sending him. As someone who had always been punctual with emails, Hajime imagines he’s not fooling anyone. But he can’t seem to feel any urge to open an email that he can already guess the contents of.

It’s mid-afternoon when Hajime gets a text from a number he hasn’t saved. Which means it’s either one of his co-workers who just recently got a new burner phone, or just a creep that somehow obtained his phone number. He’s going to assume it’s the former, out of optimism.

**???**  
open your door!!!!!

Well, Hajime thinks, if it’s a creep, it’s definitely a forward one. He can already guess who it is, judging by the format of the text and the fact that if this person _is_ outside his door right now, they haven’t even bothered to knock. Which means they know he wouldn’t answer his door otherwise.  
Hajime’s wearing gray shorts and a muted green shirt that he had slept - not the most presentable outfit, but he doubts his visitors will really care.

Hajime opens the door to find exactly who he thought it was. Bright orange hair, big brown eyes, and his taller, mildly annoyed companion in tow. Hajime already feels a headache pressing against his head. What a shame, he thinks resignedly, the morning was going so well, too.

“Sounds like you’re in trouble, Haji!” Hinata chides, hands on his hips.  
Kageyama frowns at him as well from behind Hinata.

Hajime sighs. As always, these two are inseparable.  
Ever since the two joined, somewhere around a year ago, they’ve gotten along. Though, “getting along” is a bit subjective. They compete all the time on their jobs; who can finish their job quicker, who can finish more jobs within a month, hell, even stupid things like who can name all the bones in the body.

Hajime wonders how their trainer can handle Hinata’s energy all the time. Hajime vaguely recalls something about their trainer getting some help with their training, but Hajime can’t remember from who. He imagines Hinata and Kageyama need the extra supervision, though.

Hajime shifts his weight as he says, “So what, you gonna tell me the higher-ups want me to get my shit together and finish my job just like Ushijima said?”  
“Waka was here?” Hinata says.  
“Ages ago.”  
Kageyama butts in. “If Ushijima-san already told you off, why were we told to stop by and hound you, then?” he asks pointedly, crossing his arms.  
Hajime rolls his eyes. It’s incredibly annoying to have his juniors scold him over his job.

“Well, it’s clearly because Waka didn’t do a good enough job!” Hinata huffs. “Hey, Haji, show us your apartment!”  
Hajime shoves Hinata from where the shorty’s trying to duck under his arm and peer into the apartment.  
“No. Look, I know how to handle things. Just give me space,” Hajime says.  
Hinata pouts, reaching up to cling to Hajime’s arm. “If you need help, you don’t have to be shy, Haji!” he teases childishly.

Hajime yanks his arm out of Hinata’s grasp. “Quit it. I don’t need help. It’s only been a week or so, just give me time,” Hajime scowls as Hinata’s pulling on his arm again. “_Quit it_,” he warns, swatting Hinata’s hand away.

Kageyama glares as Hinata takes to attaching himself to the former instead.  
Hajime eyes the two up as he says, “Wait, wait. You said you were just stopping by? What other business do you have here?”  
Kageyama answers, “Scouting recruits. We weren’t told why or anything, just to keep an eye out for anyone who might seem like… they’d do something like this for money.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that would be your job,” Hajime says, placing a hand on his hip.  
Hinata shrugs from where he grasps onto Kageyama’s shirt. “Seems like everyone’s sort of busy back at base. We’ve sort of been absorbed in our jobs, so we don’t really know all that’s going on,” he says.

“Recruits…” Hajime echoes to himself. That doesn’t sound right. He can’t imagine why they’d be looking for new assassins, unless…  
“Well!” Hinata shouts, rocking back on his heels, “No that we’re here, it’s kind of boring to just leave, right?”  
Hajime raises an eyebrow at him.  
“Let’s go drinking! There’s a bar we passed by on the way here!”

“It’s, like, 5 PM,” Hajime says flatly, crossing his arms.  
“Tsk, tsk, Haji. Don’t you know it’s never too early to drink? Besides, the bar’s open, anyway!” Hinata tugs on Kageyama’s arm. “C’mon! I wanna challenge you, Tobio!”  
Kageyama groans in protest, “But you’re such a lightweight, the alcohol goes right through you, and you get _so_ annoying when you’re drunk!”

“You sure they’d even let you in, shrimpy?” Hajime joins in with a smirk. “You’ve still got the height of a high schooler, well, actually, that might be too generous…”  
Kageyama nods at that notion.

“I _have_ an ID, you jerks!” Hinata snaps, waving his wallet around. That very wallet happens to be themed after a cartoon character Hajime’s seen in ads for children's tv shows.  
Hajime waves a hand dismissively, turning back to go into his apartment. “Well, it doesn’t really matter to me what you guys do. He’s in your hands, Kageyama.”

“Nooooo!” Hinata wails. “You have to come too, Haji!! Tobi’s no fun to drink with alone! He gets all snappy when he’s drunk, and it brings the whole mood down!” Hinata grabs onto Hajime’s shirt.  
“_I’m_ only snappy because you get all clingy when you’re drunk! Even more so than you usually are! And you get sooo emotional about every little thing!” Kageyama argues.  
“I do not!”  
“Last time we drank together, you started sobbing about snakes!”  
“They don’t have arms, Tobio!”

Hajime begins to slink back into his apartment, leaving the two to bicker before Hinata snatches his arm.  
“You’re not getting away, Haji!” he says, tugging on him.  
“I don’t even like drinking,” Hajime huffs, yanking his arm back.

“We need _someone_ to keep an eye on us while we’re drunk!” Hinata whines.  
“You’re grown ass adults, watch yourselves!”  
“Quit being annoying!” Kageyama scolds Hinata, who’s making annoying wailing noises.  
Hinata pouts, jabbing a finger to Kageyama’s chest. “Don’t act like you don’t wanna drink, Tobi! _You_ pointed out the bar in the first place!”

Hajime ends up being dragged along with them. Hinata’s persistent, and Hajime has a hard time handling his pushy attitude.

When they walk in, Hajime watches as Kuroo eyes him up, then pulls on that smirk of his. His eyes flit down to a figure at the bar in front of him, slumped over. Brown hair, that ridiculous hoodie. _Shit._

Hinata sits at the bar on the far end, opposite the end where Kenma sits, sizing Hajime’s group up. Kuroo’s leaning over Oikawa and mutters something to him before Oikawa’s head whips up and he locks eyes with Hajime. He looks mildly offended, but not in a serious way.

“Margaritas!! I want something sweet! Let’s get margaritas, Tobio!!” Hinata’s squabbling is causing a ruckus.  
Kageyama retorts, “If all you wanted was something sweet, we didn’t have to go drinking for it!”  
“But it’s so much more fun this way!”

Hajime hasn’t pulled his gaze away from Oikawa. He’s pouting a bit, but he glances between Hajime and his co-workers with a small quirk of his eyebrows. Hajime gives him a tired look.  
Kuroo slides over to the group with his regular sly grin.

“Hey there. Can I help you?” he asks, giving Hajime a pointed look, then glances back to Oikawa as if to encourage him to go talk.  
Hajime rolls his eyes. He had planned on it, anyway. He hardly needed Kuroo to father him into it.  
“I’m running to the bathroom. Don’t get too crazy, you two,” Hajime mumbles to Hinata, who hardly acknowledges him, too excited about ordering to pay attention.

On his way past, Hajime makes sure to tap Oikawa’s shoulder lightly. He makes sure the two idiots on the other end of the bar don’t notice, though with how they’re arguing about the order, Hajime’s sure he’s fine either way.  
Oikawa stirs, but stays where he is, letting Hajime get a head start.

Hajime takes the time to check the bathroom while he waits. It’s a fairly small bathroom, but he still checks that the stalls are empty. When Oikawa finally comes through the door, Hajime quickly moves to lock the door behind him to keep any interruptions out. He leans against one of the sinks as he readies an explanation, but Oikawa opens his mouth first.

“You said you were busy!” Oikawa pouts childishly. “I wouldn’t have minded if you just told me that you were hanging out with friends!”  
Hajime huffs, crossing his arms. “They’re not friends. They’re co-workers. Other assassins, stupid.”  
Oikawa’s pout dissolves into something of a surprised expression. “Oh. Huh. I… actually didn’t think of that. That there might be more assassins around here,” Oikawa mumbles.

“They’re not from here. They’re from, like, a town over or something. They just came here on business. And to scold me about my job,” Hajime sighs.  
“Your… oh, right,” Oikawa says quietly, almost a little uncomfortably.  
“They should be gone by the end of the day. I’m not sure if they know your face, so just pretend you don’t know me for now. They’re rookies, so they’re not as much of a threat, but it’s better to be careful,” Hajime explains.

“Sure,” Oikawa says, shrugging his shoulders, “I was about to leave anyway.”  
But he looks a bit sullen, and his eyes don’t quite meet Hajime’s anymore.  
“...What?” Hajime raises an eyebrow. He can tell there’s… something in Oikawa’s voice and expression, but can’t quite place it yet.  
Oikawa pauses for a moment, as if picking his words.

“I don’t want to make things hard for you, Iwaizumi. The last thing I’d want is for you to get in trouble because of me, so whatever you need to do, I’ll let-”  
Hajime doesn’t let him finish that sentence. Because he’s not sure where it’s going, but he doesn’t like how it sounds.

Hajime rams his head into Oikawa’s, and it knocks both of them to the ground as they reel back.  
Oikawa’s holding his nose and Hajime watches as blood drips through Oikawa’s fingers. He wasn’t trying to make his nose bleed, but he seems fine, for the most part.

“That _hurt_!” Oikawa hisses.  
Hajime’s head is stinging, and the headbutt rattled a headache in the back of his head. He’d regret it if he wasn’t so frantic right now.

“Do you really think I still want to kill you?!” Hajime growls, rubbing the knot that’s forming on his forehead.  
Oikawa blinks at him, seemingly at a loss for words. Blood drips through Oikawa’s fingers and onto the bathroom.

“Ugh, hang on,” Hajime grumbles as he stands and grabs a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. He shoves them into Oikawa’s face, who absently takes them, still looking dumbfounded.  
“Clean yourself up. I should get back there so I’m not suspicious. I’ll talk to you later,” Hajime mumbles, moving to unlock the bathroom door as Oikawa just watches him from the bathroom floor.

Before Hajime lets the door swing shut, he calls back, “And quit saying my full name like that. It sounds creepy coming from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will hopefully be a bit longer; i always want to put so much more into these chapters but i did a very poor job of spacing the sections out when i wrote it lol  
anyway some kagehina for kagehina day (":


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime sees his co-workers off at the station that night. When they had left, Hajime made sure to catch Oikawa’s eye. Oikawa had only softened his eyes slightly before Hajime pushed his two idiot co-workers out of the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! my laptop died for like a week but i'm back!  
this chapter is actually quite a bit longer than i meant for it to be, but i couldn't find a good place to stop for a chapter break whoops  
i hardly looked over this after rewriting it so apologies for any typos as always

Hajime sees his co-workers off at the station that night. When they had left, Hajime made sure to catch Oikawa’s eye. Oikawa had only softened his eyes slightly before Hajime pushed his two idiot co-workers out of the bar.

Hinata had gotten completely shitfaced after a couple of margaritas. Kageyama was slightly drunk too, but sober enough to practically carry Hinata out of the bar and to the station.

Even though he knows the two are hardly conscious enough to hear him, Hajime tells the two not to come back right as the train doors close.

He decides they’ll probably be fine.  
Hajime texts Oikawa when he gets home.

**Me**  
Hey, you alright? I didn’t actually mean to make your nose bleed.

A reply comes, two minutes later.

**Oikawa**  
I’m fine~ It did hurt pretty bad, though! x_x

**Me**  
My bad.

**Oikawa**  
More importantly!

**Oikawa**  
You’ve never texted me first! And it was to check if I was okay! >///<

**Oikawa**  
I’m swooning, Iwa-chan~

Hajime tries to suppress the smile tugging at his lips when he reads his ridiculous nickname. He does a poor job of it.

**Me**  
Just wanted to make sure I didn’t knock around the only brain cell you have in there.

**Me**  
Relieved to know your single brain cell still remains.

**Oikawa**  
So mean~

Hajime tosses his phone on the pillow of his bed while he changes. He feels light, something in his chest is stirring happily. It feels childish and silly, and it takes him until he’s standing in front of his bathroom mirror to realize he’s feeling giddy over a stupid conversation with his friend.

But “friend” _does_ sound nice, doesn’t it?

Oikawa texts Hajime regularly. It’s all mostly meaningless stuff, just asking how Hajime’s doing, telling Hajime about his upcoming volleyball matches, chatting about funny things he’s done with his teammates. Hajime’s never been much of a texter, but with Oikawa, he doesn’t mind it too much.

It’s 6:30 AM when Hajime received a call from Oikawa. He’s blinking himself awake as his phone rings, hardly awake enough to press the answer button.  
Before he can offer a greeting, Oikawa’s practically yelling at him.

“Iwa-chan! Are you awake? Are you near a tv?” he asks rapidly, then backtracks and offers, “Good morning!”  
“What are you-”  
“The tv! Go go go! The sports channel, hurry, hurry!”

Hajime reluctantly pulls himself out of bed and does his best to stumble into the bright living room and find the tv remote. All the while, Oikawa’s whining on the other end to hurry or he’ll miss it.

Hajime flips to the sports channel, and is instantly greeted with Oikawa’s face. He’s being interviewed about a recent game, as Oikawa’s team seems to have won.  
“Do you see it?” Oikawa says excitedly.  
Hajime rubs his face in an attempt to wake himself up. “Uh-huh. You’re on tv. When was this?”  
“Just the other day! Keep watching!”

The interviewer is wrapping up the session, asking Oikawa if he has any closing words to his fans. Oikawa turns to the camera and smiles, throwing a peace sign.

“Thank you to everyone who supported us! We couldn’t have done it without you! And of course, to my biggest fan, Iwa-chan! Thank you!”  
Hajime freezes as the interviewer chuckles, asking who “Iwa-chan” is as Oikawa insists that it’s a secret. Hajime pinches the bridge of his nose, ignoring the heat on his face.

“Saying my name on live tv like that…” Hajime grumbles. He sits on the floor in front of his couch and leans his head back to rest on the cushions.  
Oikawa chuckles, “It’s not your full name, so it should be fine. Are you embarrassed?”  
Hajime retorts, a little too quickly to be convincible, “_No_, but don’t you have some pretty hardcore fans?”

Oikawa barks a louder laugh.  
“Are you worried about being mobbed or something? Or are you jealous?” he chirps, and Hajime can imagine that ridiculous smirk.  
Hajime groans, and Oikawa continues, “I think it’d be exciting if you were jealous over that, though! Hey, be jealous, Iwa-chan.”  
“I’m not jealous!”  
“Sounds like something you’d say if you were jealous.”

Hajime snorts something like a laugh, and he doesn’t realize he’s been smiling until his cheeks hurt.  
“Alright, that’s all I wanted to show you,” Oikawa hums, “I have to go, but I’ll text you later, Iwa-chan!”  
“Mm, see ya,” Hajime mumbles.

As soon as Oikawa hangs up, Hajime’s phone buzzes with a text message from another number he hasn’t saved, and his mood drops like an anvil.

**???**  
Are you “Iwa-chan”, Iwaizumi?

Hajime stares down at the message, stomach twisting. At the very least, the formal way of texting means it isn’t Hinata, but it’s clear that it’s someone from work.

**Me**  
Who is this?

Hajime holds his breath, waiting for a reply. All the tension deflates from him when he reads the answer, though.

**???**  
Wakatoshi Ushijima. I’m sorry if I confused you.

**???**  
I happened to see an interview this morning on the sports channel. Tooru Oikawa, one of the volleyball players, mentioned someone named “Iwa-chan”. I wondered if that was you, Iwaizumi.

Ushijima isn’t much of a talker, never has been, but Hajime doubts the guy’s above reporting to the higher-ups about anything suspicious. Ushijima is their best assassin, after all, and he seems to play by the rules for the most part.  
Hajime could try to play it off as part of his plan to get close to Oikawa to kill him, but at this point, he doubts that excuse would hold up anymore.

But Hajime recalls his previous conversation with Ushijima, and how Ushijima has been having trouble with his own target. It’s enough to give Hajime hope to answer.

**Me**  
It is. Do you know Tooru Oikawa?

There’s a pause. Hajime slides down against the couch so that most of his back is lying on the floor.

**???**  
I know of his name. He plays college volleyball and seems to be making a name for himself. You know him, then?

Hajime grimaces at his screen.

**Me**  
You already know, don’t you?

**???**  
I thought I’d try to confirm from you directly. I was given your job file the last time I visited.

Hajime exhales deeply to himself, running a hand over his face. Of course. He can only assume that Hinata and Kageyama were given the file as well. He crosses his fingers, hoping Ushijima is the only one who saw the interview, and that Hinata and Kageyama hadn’t noticed his interaction with Oikawa at the bar.

**???**  
I won’t report it. In case you were worried.

Hajime blinks. Of course, he was hoping this was the case, but it was strange. Ushijima, Mr. Number One Assassin, stone cold, stoic, and as blunt as he is, offering to help Haime break rules? There’s no way.

**Me**  
Why?

Another pause.

**???**  
May I come to your apartment?

Hajime scoffs; Ushijima didn’t ask last time, after all.  
But Ushijima’s being… vague, almost. Which is the exact opposite of anything Hajime would use to describe Ushijima. The guy’s an open book, and not because he wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s always been quick to explain what’s on his mind or to say whatever he’s thinking, with or without tact.  
And as much as Hajime doesn’t like it, Ushijima seems to be the only one in a similar situation to him.

Hajime sighs, and types a response.

**Me**  
Do what you want.

Hajime spends his morning regularly - or rather, as regularly as he can. Ushijima’s sudden request to visit him is putting him on edge for some reason. He doesn’t know what the guy wants to talk about, or why he’d rather say it in person.

At 10 AM, there’s a knock on Hajime’s door.  
He takes a deep breath and opens it to find Ushijima’s blank face. He’s wearing casual clothes for once, an incredibly rare sight (though frankly, it’s not like Hajime sees Ushijima all that often).

He stands in Hajime’s doorway, wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans. It’s almost uncomfortable to see him so underdressed, actually.

“Good morning, Iwaizumi,” Ushijima greets, ever polite. He nods his head to top it off.  
Hajime gives a brief hum in acknowledgement, stepping aside to let him in. Hajime catches a glimpse of a purple wing design on the back of Ushijima’s hoodie. It really is strange to see him in anything other than a suit.

Ushijima quietly glides in and takes a seat on Hajime’s couch, hands neatly folded in his lap. He’s so stiff, it’s almost hard to watch. Hajime doesn’t think the guy even knows _how_ to relax.

Ushijima suddenly breaks the awkward silence, “I imagine Tooru Oikawa was told off for being unprofessional in an interview like that.”  
Hajime doesn’t hold back his scoff. “The idiot slings around that name so easily. I think his teammates know it, too.”

“That’s quite unprofessional of you, too,” Ushijima says pointedly.  
“I know, I know,” Hajime snaps, scowling, “You don’t need to lecture me.”  
“Has anyone else contacted you about that broadcast?”  
Hajime shrugs. “No, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t seen it. Of course, I doubt _that_ many of us are interested in sports,” Hajime grumbles.

Ushijima shifts, ever so slightly, from where he sits on the couch. Hajime’s still standing up against the wall opposite of the couch.  
Ushijima speaks carefully and calmly, “Iwaizumi, what exactly have you told Tooru Oikawa? Does he know of your job and the danger he’s in?”

Hajime bites his lip. At this point, he _isn’t_ sure if Oikawa understands the danger he’s in. But Hajime really doesn’t want to have this conversation. So he switches it.

“What’s going on with you?” Hajime says bluntly, crossing his arms.  
“Pardon? Nothing is going on.”  
“You’re being awfully lenient for someone at the top of the food chain in this company.”  
Ushijima rolls his shoulders with as little movement as possible. He replies slowly, “I don’t understand your question.”

Hajime catches himself before he can groan.  
“You know more than you’re letting on. Or you’re guessing and you’re just, like, waiting for me to out myself,” Hajime eyes him suspiciously.  
Ushijima tilts his head down, just a tad, his expression ever unmoving. “I simply asked about if Tooru Oikawa knows of your job,” he answers.

Hajime doesn’t stop the grumble that comes out of his throat this time.  
Ushijima continues, “I’ve only been told that you had a plan to befriend Tooru Oikawa in order to get close enough to carry out your job. But you two seem closer than I would have expected.”  
And he’s doing it again, Hajime thinks to himself, he can feel it. He knows Ushijima’s trying to get an answer out of him that he hasn’t asked.

So Hajime glares at him, frowning. If he wants Ushijima to be direct, he’ll have to be direct too.  
“Ushijima,” Hajime says slowly, carefully as he gestures to his tv, “Why did you tell me you won’t report this?”  
“I’m planning on quitting.”

And Ushijima’s regular bluntness is back. But all Hajmie can do is gawk at him, dumbfounded. For a moment, Hajime genuinely thinks he misheard, or just completely imagined the reply.  
“You... _what?_”  
“I plan on quitting,” Ushijima repeats, but the words still don’t connect in Hajime’s head.  
“_What?_” is all Hajime can say again.

Ushijima blinks, eyebrows furrowing slightly in what Hajime assumes is confusion. He speaks slower, annunciating each word, “I plan on quitting my job as an assassin.”  
Hajime’s head catches up all at once, and he snaps back quickly, “No, no, no. You can’t just _do_ that, Ushijima. Why would you even _want_ to quit?”

It’s a stupid question, and Hajime knows it is because why _wouldn’t_ anyone want to quit this job? But hearing it spoken out loud, like it’s just a simple, mundane task sounds wrong.

“I don’t want to kill that man,” Ushijima says, a little quieter.  
Something in Hajime’s stomach drops. There’s a lump in his throat that he’s having trouble breathing around.

_Recruits,_ Hajime suddenly realizes. Hinata and Kageyama were scouting for new assassins, and the only reason the company would need new assassins would be… if someone were quitting. But Kageyama said they weren’t told the reason they were looking for recruits.

Then…  
“Who knows about this?” Hajime asks, an edge to his voice.  
Ushijima replies, the usual firmness in his voice gone, “I’ve only directly told you. But I think some have their suspicions.”  
“I’ll say,” Hajime huffs. “Must be some guy to make someone like you crack.”

Ushijima meets Hajime’s eyes. “I don’t think I’m the only one.”  
It’s said without any hostility, but it still shuts Hajime up. There’s nothing he could retort to that.  
“Iwaizumi,” Ushijima says slowly, “If you aren’t busy, I’d like you to meet him.”

* * *

It’s a fairly lengthy train ride across town, so Ushijima fills the silence by telling Hajime about his target. Frankly, Hajime doesn’t care too much to learn about him, but it’s bizarre to hear Ushijima talk so fervently about something.  
Not that Hajime’s around Ushijima all that often, but it’s the first time Hajime’s seen him make an expression even resembling a smile.

Ushijima describes Satori Tendou as an eccentric person. He works at a restaurant bar called Vulture’s Vice as a bartender and likes to make a show of his job. He’s particularly chatty, and customers apparently do more listening to Tendou than talking to him. He talks about things like tv shows he’s seen, manga he’s reading, strange customers - all incredibly boring things to Hajime. Ushijima mentions how Tendou’s eyes light up when he passionately talks about his interests, and he gets excited when he finds someone new to talk to.

Hajime’s image of Tendou in his head is someone who is unbelievably annoying.

They reach the restaurant somewhere around 2:30 PM. It’s a nice looking place, and frankly, much nicer than Kuroo’s bar.  
The lunch crowd is still lingering, but seems to be dissipating evenly.  
They’re standing outside the building when Hajime glances over at Ushijima.

“Bit underdressed for this kind of setting, aren’t you?” Hajime muses, looking over Ushijima’s casual outfit.  
Ushijima’s brow twitches ever so slightly, but Hajime catches it. Hajime tries not to feel smug.

A girl with long black hair greets them at the entrance. She’s pretty, and her demeanor makes Hajime think she wouldn’t be the type to squeal over someone like Oikawa. He wonders how Oikawa would react to that, actually.

No, actually, Hajime doesn’t know why his first thought at seeing a pretty girl is to think of Oikawa.  
He’s been spending too much time with the idiot, clearly.

“How many will be- oh, it’s you,” the girl says when she sees Ushijima. “Tendou’s shift starts soon,” she says, nodding her head to the back of the restaurant, where the bar sits in red neon lights.

Ushijima gives her a short nod and a, “Thank you,” before leading the way back to the bar. Hajime gives Ushijima a pointed look as they sit at the counter.

“Exactly how often _do_ you come in here?” Hajime raises an eyebrow.  
Ushijima’s expression doesn’t change, but he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, and he avoids the look Hajime gives him.

Hajime rolls his eyes and he leans forward, resting his arms on the counter. “Just so you know, I’m not really a drinker,” Hajime says.”  
“Me either,” Ushijima says with a nod.  
Of course he’s not, Hajime thinks with a sigh.

After a few minutes of meaningless chatter between them (Ushijima talks about how the food is, Hajime could care less), a tall, lanky man slides up to the counter. He’s wearing a red waistcoat over a white button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black tie neatly tucked behind his vest.

As if to match, his hair a bright red and wildly slicked back, with some parts sticking up. He’s got wide eyes and an almost unsettling atmosphere about him, but he lights up when he spots Ushijima.

“Wooow, you’re early, ‘toshi!” he chirps, grinning. His eyes flick over to Hajime. “Who’s this?”  
_’toshi?_ Hajime snaps a glare at Ushijima. The bastard had the audacity to lecture him about giving out his real name to his target, after all.

If Ushijima notices Hajime’s glare, he doesn’t react. He sits as stiff as ever in the barstool, hands held in his lap as always. Maybe that’s just how Ushijima sits.

“I’m just a f- friend…” Hajime stumbles on the word. Because he doesn’t really think of Ushijima as a friend, but “co-worker” sounds strange to introduce himself. He doesn’t even know if Tendou knows of Ushijima’s job, either.

“This is Hajime Iwaizumi,” Ushijima says with a small nod.  
Hajime refuses to let Ushijima ever try to lecture him about names in the future.  
“Iwaizumi, huh?” Tendou says, looking over Hajime. “You know, I think I saw something about an ‘Iwa-chan’ this morning. That you?”

Hajime sighs, and Tendou slips on a wide grin.  
“I’m Satori Tendou,” he introduces himself, leaning on the counter. “Wanna order something?”  
Hajime waves a hand dismissively. “I’m just here with Ushijima. I don’t really drink,” he says.  
Tendou shrugs nonchalantly, if a little disappointed, and Hajime wonders if he would get along with Kuroo.

Tendou and Ushijima carry most of the conversations. Well, Tendou does. Ushijima’s attentive to Tendou’s ramblings, even when Tendou’s interests don’t cross with Ushijima’s. Which, as far as Hajime understands, is practically every topic that Tendou brings up. Hajime has no idea what Ushijima is even interested in, anyway.

Tendou speaks quickly, usually gesturing wildly as he does, eyes wide and excited. It’s kind of disconcerting to Hajime, and if it were directed at him, he’s sure he’d be unbearably irritated by it all.  
But Ushijima politely nods along, sometimes humming in acknowledgement or even asking a question about something in encouragement to continue. He’s a very good listener, Hajime realizes, and with how talkative Tendou is, he likely needs someone like that.

Being such a good listener, Ushijima would probably be better suited for a bartending job than Tendou.  
On that train of thought, Hajime wonders what Ushijima even plans to do after quitting. Switching from a job where you kill for a living to anything else seems impossible to him. Ushijima could probably pull it off somehow, though.

It’s about 3:15 PM when Hajime feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He’s glad for the distraction as he’s been terribly bored by Tendou and Ushijima’s conversation. Hajime’s partly listening to their conversation, but he eventually tunes it out. 

He’s sure Ushijima meant for he and Tendou to talk more when Ushijima initially invited him to come here, but Tendou only occasionally turns to Hajime to talk. Hajime tries to be polite, but he just doesn’t care all that much about the romcom Tendou’s been watching lately.

Hajime pulls his phone out to see the message.

**Oikawa sent an image.**

Hajime opens it to find a typical selfie from Oikawa. He’s winking at the camera, pulling his regular peace sign. He’s drenched in sweat in what looks like a gym, a towel hung over his shoulders. The image is adorned with filters and emojis.

**Oikawa**  
Finished practice early today! :P

**Me**  
Good work, then.

**Oikawa**  
What are you up to?

Hajime glances up at Ushijima and Tendou. With how Ushijima’s engrossed in Tendou’s story, he doubts either of them would even notice if he slipped out without saying anything.

**Me**  
Out with a friend across town.

He decides calling Ushijima a friend really doesn’t feel right, but doesn’t bother to correct himself.

**Oikawa**  
Friend? You have friends, Iwa-chan?

**Me**  
Hey.

**Oikawa**  
:O I think I felt that glare of yours...

**Oikawa**  
In any case, if you’re across town, you might get back pretty late!

Hajime had been thinking that, too. He figures Oikawa’s message is a good enough excuse to finally take his leave. He shoots a quick text,

**Me**  
Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m leaving now anyway.

and stands up, capturing the attention of Ushijima and Tendou.

“Leaving?” Tendou asks first.  
Hajime bows his head politely. “Gotta get the train back to my side of town. It’ll be late by the time I get back,” he explains.  
Tendou gives him a lazy smile. “It was nice meeting you, _Iwa-chan_. You’re welcome to come back any time.”

Hajime suppresses the scowl that’s tugging at his face.  
“Let me walk you back to the station,” Ushijima offers, standing up.  
Hajime waves him off with a shrug. “I know the way, don’t bother.”  
But Ushijima rests a hand on Hajime’s shoulder gently and says, “I’ll see you off outside, then.”

The sun has dipped below the treeline, bathing everything that’s not under street lights in silhouettes. They stand off to the side, under the large red neon sign with the restaurant's name on it, people passing by them as they enter the building.

“It was a pleasure working with you, Iwaizumi,” Ushijima says politely, his face lit up by the red sign.  
Hajime stuffs his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight as he replies, “We never actually worked together on anything. I always avoided you, actually.”  
Ushijima blinks. “It was nice knowing you,” he tries again.  
“You make it sound like you’re about to kill me or something.”

Hajime has never seen Ushijima pout; he hadn’t thought pouting was anywhere in Ushijima’s extremely limited repertoire of emotions. But Ushijima furrows his eyebrows and pouts in the most subtle, Ushijima way.  
Hajime kind of wants to laugh at it.

He rolls his eyes and says, “No need for fancy, meaningful goodbyes.” He spins around to leave and calls back, “Neither of us are going anywhere, after all.”  
“Iwaizumi,” Ushijima begins.   
Hajime glances over his shoulder to look at him. The red of the neon sign lights up Ushijima’s entire face.

“Good luck with your target,” he says. Hajime can’t tell which way he means it.  
“Sure. Whatever that means,” Hajime says, quirking his eyebrows.  
“You’re welcome to ask me for anything in the future,” Ushijima says with a nod.  
“Don’t hold your breath.”

And with that, Ushijima turns and heads back into the building.

Admittedly, Hajime doesn’t know all that much about Ushijima and tends to speculate about Ushijima’s personality more often than not. He’s always pegged Ushijima as the type of person to play by the rules, someone who would eventually be the next boss of the company. Hajime always thought of Ushijima as someone far above himself.

But the way Ushijima had watched Tendou like a puppy in a window… Hajime wonders if he had the wrong assumption about the guy.

Hajime’s sitting on the train when he notices a text from about ten minutes earlier that he missed.

**Oikawa**  
I’ll meet you at the station! You’ll be here around 8, right?

**Me**  
The station is closer to my place than yours. Don’t bother.

**Oikawa**  
It’s dangerous to wander around at night!!

Hajime huffs at his screen.

**Me**  
Oikawa, you do know who you’re talking to, right? I know how to handle myself.

There’s a pause, and Hajime thinks Oikawa’s just dropped the conversation until he gets a message two minutes later.

**Oikawa**  
Stop ruining this, Iwa-chan! >:( I can’t think of any other excuse! I just wanna see you!!

**Oikawa**  
Don’t try to stop me, I’ll be there either way!

_Thump,_ goes something in Hajime’s chest. He stares down at the message, blinking.  
_Wait, thump?_ he thinks to himself, face heating up. He’s grateful that the train is mostly empty as he’s leaning his head back, trying to cool off.

His stomach is twisting, and he can’t tell if it’s out of disgust or worry or confusion or… excitement? Hajime shakes his head, pocketing his phone and focusing his attention on the dirty floor of the train.

The second Hajime steps off the train, he sees Oikawa waiting for him. He’s wearing a white hoodie with his college’s name, “SEIJOU”, in light blue letters across the chest with a green laurel design around it.  
The lights of the train station illuminate his grin.

“Hey,” Hajime grunts as he begins walking out of the station, Oikawa close in tow.  
“I forgot to ask you before,” Oikawa says, skipping any greeting, “What did you think when you saw me on tv this morning?”  
“Huh?”

“Did I look cool? Did you think I was handsome? That I look better in person?” Oikawa asks as he follows Hajime.  
Hajime scoffs, “I thought ‘he looks like an idiot’, and I was right.”  
Oikawa bumps his shoulders as he matches Hajime’s pace. “So mean!”

They’re walking along a sidewalk, sparsely lit with street lights, when Oikawa turns to Hajime suddenly.  
“It’s pretty late,” he states simply, hands in the pocket of his hoodie.  
“Uh-huh. I’m pretty tired,” Hajime replies absently, holding back a yawn.

“My apartment is pretty far away,” Oikawa states again. His tone of voice suggests that he’s dancing around something he wants to say.  
Hajime snaps, “I already warned you that the station wasn’t near your place. No complaining now!”  
“No, no, that’s not it!” Oikawa insists, a flash of a grin when they pass under a street light.  
“Then what?”

Oikawa leaps a couple steps forward and spins to face Hajime with a dramatic flourish as Hajime comes to a stop to watch.  
“I, Tooru Oikawa, was so incredibly kind and generous to meet you at the station after valiantly pouring my sweat and tears in practice-”  
“I told you not to come…” Hajime grumbles.  
“-and so! It would only be polite of you to invite me over to stay the night at your place!” Oikawa finished with a grandeur.

Hajime shifts his weight in place and crosses his arms. “Are you inviting yourself over to my apartment?” he asks incredulously.  
Oikawa grins, holding his arms up in a shrug. He says in a dramatic accent, “I am but a tired maiden in need of a place to rest!” Then reverts back to his regular voice, “You’re not actually gonna make me walk alllll the way back to my apartment, are you?”

Hajime hisses, “You brought this on yourself! You have class tomorrow, anyway!”  
“It won’t be a problem if I wake up early!”  
Hajime rolls his eyes. “Why are you so intent on seeing my place so bad?”  
Oikawa sighs, “You’re missing the point, Iwa-chan.”  
“Then please, enlighten me.”

Oikawa flashes a smirk as he approaches Hajime and slings an arm over Hajime’s shoulders.  
“It’s so late, I’m worried I’ll get jumped on the way home!” he says in faux despair. “There are rumors of _assassins_ roaming the streets! Can you believe that?”  
Oikawa leans into Hajime as he whines, “I mean, who would _ever_ want to kill me, the great Oikawa, star volleyball player and all-around wonderful person?”

Hajime groans, running a hand over his face. As tired as he was, he had actually just planned on walking Oikawa back to his apartment.  
“Fine,” Hajime heaves a sigh, “I’m too tired to argue with you right now.”  
Oikawa pumps a fist in triumph. “Was that so hard?”  
“Shut up before I change my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mentioned this to my friend as i was writing, but even though iwa finds tendou annoying in this fic, i actually really love tendou  
im so sorry i had to be mean to you tendou,,
> 
> i have a certain iwaoi fic i've been working on on the side that will likely be the next thing i upload; it's a feelsy one so (":


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought your place would be a lot messier,” Oikawa muses as he wanders around Hajime’s living room.  
Hajime pulls off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door as he grumbles, “Why?  
Oikawa shrugs. “You just don’t seem like the type who’d care if your place was messy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey long time no TARGET  
my bad i'm just slow whoops
> 
> this chapters a bit longer to make up for it (that and i planned the draft out very poorly and couldnt find a good place to break the chapter earlier lol)

“I thought your place would be a lot messier,” Oikawa muses as he wanders around Hajime’s living room.  
Hajime pulls off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door as he grumbles, “Why?  
Oikawa shrugs. “You just don’t seem like the type who’d care if your place was messy.”

Something catches Oikawa’s attention and he bends down to pick something off the coffee table. Hajime moves closer to see what it is and finds the little black notepad with all his notes on Oikawa in the latter’s hands.

Hajime must have dug it out from where he hid it before, left it out and forgot about it. _Dammit._  
Well, it doesn’t really matter at this point, though.

“Is this your diary?” Oikawa slips on a playful smirk as he shows off the notepad to Hajime. “I remember this. You said it was important before, when you dropped it.”  
“It’s not a diary,” Hajime huffs, taking a step towards Oikawa. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, huh? I can look then, right?” Oikawa grins, taking a step back from Hajime.  
“That’s not- hey!” Hajime warns as Oikawa begins to flip through it.  
He moves to grab it, but Oikawa’s taller, holding it above Hajime’s head and laughing as he skims the pages.

“You sure this isn’t a diary? It’s all about me, anyway. It even has my game schedule! It’s a very sweet sentiment, Iwa-chan, but stuff like this is a little creepy. Makes me wonder what you could have been doing with it,” he teases, chuckling a little.

Hajime smacks Oikawa’s arm, knocking the book out of his hands and catching it before it can fall to the floor. Oikawa grins with a mischievous look on his face.

Hajime’s setting the notepad back down on the table when Oikawa dramatically spins around, striking some ridiculous pose.

“Well, since I’m such a popular and important person, I’m gracious enough to look past your _weirdly_ obsessive notes about me and instead thank you that you took the time-”

Hajime wanders into his bedroom, tuning out Oikawa’s dumb speech. He picks out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts he doesn’t wear often and comes back to Oikawa still talking as if he hadn’t walked out.

“-kind enough to not kill me that night, so I will happily-”  
Hajime launches the clothes at Oikawa’s face. Oikawa yelps a little _gweh!_ in surprise.

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep. You can sleep on the couch,” Hajime says flatly.  
“That’s not very hospitable, Iwa-chan.”  
“It’s my house.”

Oikawa looks down at the bundle of clothes in his hands thoughtfully. Then he slowly brings them up and buries his face in them.  
“_What_ are you doing?! Stop it!” Hajime shouts, picking up the notepad from the table just to hurl it at Oikawa, successfully nicking him in the forehead with a grunt.

Oikawa laughs though, folding his chest over as he tries to catch his breath in between laughs.  
Hajime thinks his own face might be getting a bit warm, so he whips around and heads towards his bedroom.  
“Goodnight, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa calls after him, barely containing his laughter.

Sunlight’s shining in his face. Hajime groans, reaching up to shield his eyes.  
He’s usually fairly good about getting up early, but every once in a while he allows himself to sleep in.  
Hajime rolls over, on the verge of drifting off again-  
and rolls right into a figure on the other side of his bed.

Hajime shoots to sit up and glares down at the man in his clothes, sleeping next to him quietly. The sudden movement from Hajime seems to be stirring him a bit, nose wrinkling as he dozes.  
Hajime’s face suddenly feels hot.

He doesn’t think - just shoves Oikawa’s torso as hard as he can. The latter’s head and shoulder thump against the floor as he yelps awake.  
“Oww,” Oikawa mumbles as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes from where half of his body lays on the floor, “Show some manners, Iwa-chan.”

“Why the hell are you in my bed?!” Hajime snaps.  
Oikawa, unmoving from his position, answers, “You didn’t give me a blanket last night, dummy. Your couch is small and uncomfortable, too. So I only did what I thought was right.”

Hajime closes his fingers over the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes briefly in an attempt to cool down. It doesn’t really help much.  
“That’s not an invitation! _You_ wanted to come over, anyway!” he hisses.

Oikawa laughs. “Oh, I didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re worried about! I _am_ a gentleman, after all.”  
Hajime kicks Oikawa’s legs off the bed to join his torso on the floor, earning him a small grunt. Oikawa sits up, crossing his legs and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Don’t you have classes today? Get going already, dumbass,” Hajime says as he runs a hand through his hair, the heat on his face finally simmering down.  
Oikawa doesn’t reply, just puts a hand on his chin, furrows his brow, and purses his lips like he’s in deep thought.

“...What?” Hajime grumbles.  
Oikawa grins, setting a fist on his hand like he just thought of an idea. “Well, it’s okay! I can skip every now and then. Let’s hang out longer, Iwa-chan!”  
Hajime launches a pillow at him, which Oikawa (impressively) catches before it can smack him in the face.

Hajime chastises, “You have responsibilities! Go to class, idiot!”  
Oikawa puts the pillow in his lap and shrugs as he pouts, “I work so hard all the time! Besides! _You’re_ pretty much skipping your work, too, so…”  
“Hold still, I can fix that.”

Hajime’s somehow able to convince Oikawa to get going. He sees Oikawa off at the door, but Oikawa whips around before he can close it.

“Hey, Iwa-chan. Let’s hang out after I’m out for the day. I have a big match coming up on Friday, so I’ll be busy with practice for the rest of the week,” Oikawa’s voice is soft, but returns to its usual cheerfulness when he adds, “Don’t want you to miss me too much, after all!”

Hajime scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Just focus on your match. No need to go out of your way just to keep me company.”

Oikawa shrugs with a bit of a sigh as he says, “Let me rephrase, then. I want to spend time with you.”  
Hajime feels the same feeling he felt on the train last night. He swallows thickly, snapping his eyes away from Oikawa’s.

“Whatever, fine. I get it already,” he grumbles.  
Oikawa chuckles lightly. Seemingly satisfied with that, he turns and leaves.

As soon as the door closes, Hajime groans to himself. Getting flustered is definitely something he’s not used to doing.

At around 4:30 PM, Oikawa texts him that he’s out of his classes.  
Hajime sets out to meet him near the alley they met, but Oikawa’s already there, leaning against a street lamp, by the time he arrives.

“Hey, let’s go drinking, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa offers without a greeting when Hajime approaches.  
Hajime snaps immediately, “_No._”  
Oikawa laughs as he slings an arm around Hajime’s shoulders. “We can make better memories this time, though! Ones that don’t involve you trying to kill me.”

“Keep your voice down,” Hajime hisses, “Besides, I’m not really a drinker.”  
“Then _I’ll_ do the drinking, you just supervise me!”  
“Correction, you want me to babysit you.”  
Oikawa grins as he hums, “Sure, sure! Whatever you wanna call it.”

Hajime’s dragged to the bar anyway. It’s not like he plans on trying to kill Oikawa again after last time, after all.

Kuroo spots them as they walk through the door and that hyena smirk reaches his face. Per usual, Kenma sits at the far end of the bar, engrossed with a game console, mumbling to Kuroo.

“Well, well, it’s you two,” Kuroo chirps as they take a seat near Kenma at the end of the bar. “Seems a bit less tense today,” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

“We have an unbreakable bond,” Oikawa answers, dramatically leaning against Hajime. “Nothing can break it.”

Hajime rolls his eyes and pushes Oikawa to sit down properly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters.

“What can I get for you? Wanna try to top your ten beers?” Kuroo asks with a grin.

Hajime shoots a glare at Oikawa in warning.  
Oikawa waves a dismissive hand quickly, “No, no. I’m taking it easy today. Have to be a responsible student under the watchful eyes of my escort.”  
Hajime huffs, “Who are you calling an escort?”

Kuroo shrugs with a sigh, “Aww, really? What about you?” He turns to Hajime, a coaxing smirk on his face.  
Hajime shakes his head. “I’m just here to make sure this idiot doesn’t die from alcohol poisoning.”  
Oikawa gives him a look like he wants to make a joke about that. Hajime elbows him in the ribs.

“What a shame,” Kuroo says dramatically. “Poor Kenma will just have to entertain himself instead.”  
Kenma finally lifts his head and pouts at Kuroo.  
“Don’t bring me into that,” he mumbles, “You were the one dying of laughter back then.”

Kuroo puts a hand on his hip, flashing his teeth. “You didn’t stop me or say anything, so I’ll take that as encouragement.”  
“It’s not.”  
“Sure it is.”  
“It’s really not.”

Oikawa only ends up a little tipsy, surprisingly. Hajime didn’t think he had any form of self control.  
Of course, he thinks maybe his glares as Oikawa ordered probably contributed.

Hajime finds that no matter what level of drunk Oikawa is, however, he’s clingy either way.  
As they’re leaving the bar, Kuroo calling for them to come back soon, Oikawa presses his full weight into Hajime.  
Hajime regularly works out as part of his job, but Oikawa is taller and actually quite a bit heavier than he looks.

Hajime pushes against him, hoisting him to stand upright. “Stand on your own, idiot. I’m not walking you all the way to your apartment.”

Oikawa wails, “But you’re the babysitter! You have to take care of me!”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “I don’t have to do shit. You’re not even that drunk.”  
Oikawa flops backwards over Hajime’s back, a hand dramatically draped over his forehead.  
Hajime snaps, “Cut it out, Shittykawa!”  
He slides out from under Oikawa, letting the latter nearly topple to the ground in the middle of the street.

“So rude! And after I was so chivalrous last night!” Oikawa whines.

“What part of you barging into my apartment and being a nuisance was chivalrous of you?!”

Oikawa’s laughing, his face slightly red from the alcohol. Hajime begins to walk away, so Oikawa quickly regains himself and trots to catch up.

They walk together quietly for a moment, until Oikawa murmurs under his breath, “It’s really hot.”  
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, and Hajime turns to watch him lift his hoodie off. The shirt underneath gets caught and a slip of Oikawa’s stomach is exposed.

It’s only a little peek, but Hajime catches a glimpse of the smooth, bare skin. Something rattles in his mind. He quickly crosses the distance between them and yanks Oikawa’s shirt down, choosing to ignore how hot his own face feels.

Oikawa pauses what he’s doing, his hoodie still tangled around his arms.  
“Uh, thanks, Iwa-chan,” he says slowly, confused.

Hajime doesn’t say anything back, just keeps holding Oikawa’s shirt down until Oikawa finally pulls his hoodie off and ties it around his waist.  
Oikawa stares at him a tick longer, eyes squinting slightly before realization flickers across his eyes.

A smirk plays across his face and he reaches out to take Hajime’s hand.  
“...Did you see something interesting, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa teases, “If you ask, I might be inclined to show you more.”

Hajime’s entire face burns up all at once and he turns and speed-walks away, picking up his pace until he’s almost running when Oikawa catches up, all laughs and grins.

* * *

Hajime is an idiot for doing this, he knows.

He brought this on himself, of course, but it’s still stupid. He’s sure it’ll be worth it, anyway.

He and a large group of mostly girls find their way to the spectator stands.  
Hajime hasn’t been in too many gymnasiums frankly, but this one looks particularly large. Chalk it up to Seijou being a popular college, he supposes.

The front row of the bleachers are filled with girls calling to the players. Well, actually, they’re calling down to Oikawa.

Hajime’s doing his best to keep his head down and move to the seats in the back, but he catches a figure in the corner of his eye turning to wave at the audience.

Hajime risks a glance - he really shouldn’t, he thinks as he does it - and finds Oikawa throwing a peace sign to the girls.  
Oikawa’s eyes scan over to Hajime, and his _entire stupid face_ lights up.

It’s a different kind of joy that Hajime doesn’t think he’s ever seen the guy wear, and it’s kind of amusing in an adorable kind of way. 

Shit, did he just use the word _adorable_ to describe Oikawa?

But it’s hard to deny that Oikawa’s face isn’t making this whole dumb situation worth it.  
Oikawa’s teammates are calling him to continue their warmups already, but Oikawa waves them off with barely a glance and crosses the distance between the court and the bleachers in three huge strides.

The girls to Hajime’s left are squealing, calling Oikawa to look at them, but Oikawa’s looking right at Hajime.  
Hajime steps up to the railing of the bleachers with a sigh and looks down at Oikawa’s dumb dazzling face, eyes wide, cheeks lightly flushed.

“You’re- You’re really here!” he stammers excitedly, “That _is_ you, right? I’m not hallucinating? I’m not just talking to some illusion? I have a reputation, you know!”

Hajime can’t help it. He really, really tries to, but he smiles.  
He’s still attempting to hold it back even as he does, and it comes out as more of a smirk.

“That notepad isn’t some diary, Idiotkawa,” Hajime huffs.

“You’re really here!” Oikawa repeats, pumping his fist ecstatically.  
There’s something so satisfying and precious seeing Oikawa like this; no snarky quips, no flirting, just unadulterated joy.

Hajime catches Oikawa’s teammates watching, and a number of girls in the stands are glancing at him suspiciously. His own amusement begins to fade. He should get Oikawa back on track.

Hajime locks eyes with Oikawa as he says, “Right. I’m watching, so go and win. Show me that valiant and hard work you brag so much about.”

Something flashes across Oikawa’s eyes and his smile melts into a smirk.  
He narrows his eyes and replies, “_Just keep your eyes on me._”

He gives Hajime a brief wink, a loose wave to the girls, and turns back to his teammates, who seem to crowd him asking about their interaction.  
Hajime finds a seat in the back, out of the way of people.

He realizes he’s never seen Oikawa play in person before. During his research on Oikawa prior to… everything, Hajime had watched Oikawa on TV every now and then, but he hardly paid attention.

So when Oikawa tosses the ball up to serve, jumps up, and _slams_ the ball down on the other side of the court, Hajime’s holding his breath.  
He’s beautiful when he plays, a thought that Hajime would be embarrassed to admit aloud, but it’s just a fact.

Oikawa could have been teasing when he told Hajime to keep his eyes on him before the match, but that’s exactly what Hajime does.

Seijou wins. Not that it’s really much of a surprise, though.  
Hajime doesn’t know the other team, but they seem to take the defeat hard. Hajime would feel a little bad for them, but it seems his general apathy towards human emotions still lingers from his job.

That, or Oikawa’s gleaming grin and his celebratory cheers with his team block out his empathy for the losing team.

Seijou lines up in front of the stands to say their thanks, and he meets eyes with Oikawa.  
There’s a softness in his gaze, and it makes his “Thank you very much!” mean something different than the rest of the team.

Hajime flicks his head toward the lobby of the gym as a signal to Oikawa to meet up later and Oikawa grins in response.

Hajime comes out into the lobby among other spectators and finds a bench in the corner of the room. He watches the losing team walk out, eyes red, hands patting backs.  
He watches them leave the gym and thinks about how Oikawa’s definitely been one of those losing teams.

Speaking of Oikawa, Hajime catches light blue out of the corner of his eye and turns to see Seijou saunter into the lobby, all grinning and cheerful.  
He’s happy for them, but watching them all together like that...

Something in Hajime’s chest clenches. There’s something akin to the feeling he had weeks ago, when he had his hands around Oikawa.  
He can’t really tell what the feeling is; it’s like loneliness, but something about it’s more visceral.

Hajime leans back on the bench until his back hits the wall behind it.  
He grasps the name of the feeling, only briefly. _Guilt._

“Iwa-chan!”

Hajime blinks himself quickly out of his daze, shoving the feeling as far away as he can, and turns to Oikawa.

“Not so loud,” Hajime says softly, glancing around them as Oikawa stops in front of him.

Oikawa grins, stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets, rocks back on his heels.  
“Sorry, I got excited. I really am glad you’re here. I was pretty surprised, you know. I didn’t think you had any interest in volleyball, haha.”

Hajime stares at him, absolutely dumbfounded that Oikawa thinks he went out of his way to come to this game because he’s _interested in volleyball._  
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “I didn’t come to see a volleyball game, stupid. I came to see _you_. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

Hajime has only ever seen Oikawa’s flustered face once, after they made up the first time. It was dark then, and Hajime could hardly see Oikawa’s red face when he sprinted away.  
But now, Oikawa’s standing in broad daylight in a corner of the lobby, and Hajime gets a crystal clear view of his face.

And his face is _red_. Like, Hajime could have easily second guessed himself before about it due to the darkness, but there’s no way he could miss it now.  
It makes Hajime a little embarrassed too, and his own face starts heating up a little.

Oikawa’s using his hand in an attempt to hide his red face, but it’s doing little to cover it up.

“You- That was-” Oikawa sputters through his fingers, “That was so smooth…”

Hajime barks out a laugh. He… hasn’t openly laughed at something like that in forever, and it makes him feel light.

His laugh seems to have surprised Oikawa, too. Oikawa widens his eyes and somehow gets even redder.

“That’s some face you’re making,” Hajime huffs.  
“I’m not making a face!” Oikawa protests immediately. “You’re in a good mood,” he adds softly.

Hajime shrugs and leans forward, resting his arms on his knees.  
“Guess I am. Wanna hear my thoughts?” he asks, slipping Oikawa a smile.

Oikawa swallows and meets his eyes.

“You played well, and your form was beautiful,” Hajime says plainly.  
He doesn’t think he’d ever admit to something as open as Oikawa being beautiful. But, well, he’s already heating up, so what’s the harm?  
Besides, Hajime’s a little curious as to whether Oikawa can get redder.

Of course, it’s not a lie, either. Hajime knows Oikawa’s an attractive person, and he’s never denied that.  
So he tops it off with, “I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even I wanted.”

The answer to his question is that yes, Oikawa _can_ get redder; he’s sweating with how much he’s blushing.  
It’s incredibly amusing, seeing someone so flippant dissolve into a mess.

Maybe Hajime should try this approach more.

“...You really only came for me?” Oikawa mumbles, running a hand over his red face.

Hajime sits back. “Yeah, of course,” he answers, “Before… you mentioned you were going to be busy. You said…”  
_That he wanted to spend more time together._ But Hajime doesn’t finish that sentence.

He clears his throat and continues, “And besides, I thought I’d try to kill some time. Don’t make a joke out of that, I’ll punch you.”

But when Hajime’s eyes flick to Oikawa’s, the latter’s are wide. His blush is fading, but only slightly. He takes a step closer to the bench and smiles.

“That’s pretty thoughtful, Iwa-chan. It’s… it’s the first time you’ve willingly come to see me.”

Now Hajime’s starting to get a little flustered. He involuntarily starts bouncing his knee.

There’s a beep from Oikawa’s phone and he sighs, saying that it’s his team telling him to come celebrate with them. Hajime nods and mumbles a “Talk to you later” as Oikawa whips around.

Before Oikawa can run off, he stops and turns back to Hajime, though.

“Iwa-chan,” he calls, and waits until Hajime meets his eyes to continue, “Your laugh and smile… are really nice. You should do that more.”

Hajime sputters, trying to think of some witty insult, but he can’t quite get one out.

Oikawa grins and adds, “Also, time isn’t the only thing you tried to kill!”

He runs off cackling as Hajime shouts insults at him.

Hajime spends a few more minutes just sitting on the bench after Oikawa leaves.  
_Your laugh and smile are really nice._  
That churning feeling from earlier completely forgotten.

Thump, goes something in his chest.  
Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im excited for the next chapter and thats all i'll say ab it (":

**Author's Note:**

> chapters will be uploaded leisurely! i'm working on writing some parts at the beginning as well as some other side fics! stay tuned because i promise this fic gets better the further in you get :D  
and please let me know what you think! i've been super nervous about posting this since it was just meant to be fun but i've been working really hard on this fic and i'd love to hear any form of feedback!  
thank you to anyone who reads!!
> 
> >[follow my tumblr and come chat!](https://fliicke.tumblr.com/)  
>[follow my twitter, where i sometimes post wip snippets!](https://twitter.com/fliicke)


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